


New traditions

by edenforest



Series: Times are good or bad, happy or sad [2]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Ballet, Bromance, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Christmas Party, Comfort, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hangover, Love, Mild Smut, New Year's Eve, Romance, Sex, Shopping, Training, Wrestling, gallya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 29,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5335877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenforest/pseuds/edenforest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Advent calendar about making a new traditions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Advent calendar

”What do you need advent calendar for?” Illya asked and looked the brightly coloured calendar. There were reindeers and sled full of present in the picture.

“So that I know when Christmas is coming”, Gaby said.

“Just use regular calendar”, Illya said.

“No. There’s no christmassy pictures in regular calendar”, Gaby huffed.

Illya dropt the calendar on the table and crossed his arms on his chest. “This must be American invention”, he said.

“Actually German”, Gaby said and smiled little proud smile. “From 19th century. You can´t have anything against that.”

“How so?” Illya asked.

“Well”, Gaby sighed and walk slowly towards Illya, “you like Germans and 19th century.”

“On basis of what?” Illya asked.

“Me”, Gaby said. “And Leo Tolstoy.”

The corners of Illya´s mouth twitched. When Gaby sat on his lap, he uncrossed his arms and wrapped the other hand around her back.

“You should really brace yourself”, Gaby warned. “About Christmas that is. I’m going to do it all.”

“All of what?” Illya asked.

“All of Christmas”, Gaby said. ”Everything. I feel like its time. I have seen few Christmas in here and now I’m going to do it all.”

Illya frown his brows. Somehow everything Gaby was saying sounded little dangerous.

“It’s going to be great”, Gaby assured. “We are going to get a tree and ornaments. And we are going to roast a turkey. First I need to find out how that happens. And it probably would be better if you would do it. But I feel like turkey is something that we need. And we are going to have Christmas stockings. And we are going to the agency’s Christmas party –“

“We are going?” Illya interrupted her.

“Yes”, Gaby nodded. 

“Why I need to be there?” Illya asked. Christmas party didn’t sound something he would actually enjoy. “There´s also much we in here. I thought you were going to do it all.”

“I can’t do it all alone”, Gaby said. “So, there´s the Christmas party. And Napoleon is coming and we are going to drink eggnog. To be honest, it sounds disgusting, but we should still drink it.”

“I don’t actually celebrate Christmas”, Illya mentioned.

“I know”, Gaby sighed. “I am from behind the iron curtain. I know your new year’s things. But I have decided that it doesn’t bother me. We can celebrate that too. It’s like having two Christmas. What could be better?”

“Anything”, Illya muttered.

”Shh”, Gaby said and ignored Illya´s muttering. She wrapped her hand around his neck. “It’s going to be great. I’m going to bake a fruit cake, and it’s going to be good. And you are taking me to see the Nutcracker and buy me a present, and nothing is going to upset me. I’m just going to turn my back to every problem.”

“So, there’s going to be lot of turning?” Illya predicted.

“Illya is grumpy, that’s okay, I’m just going to turn my back to it”, Gaby said. “I can’t obviously actually do it, it’s more of a mental thing.”

“Yes, I feel like it is a mental thing too”, Illya said and almost smiled

Gaby mentally turned her back on Illya´s comment and leaned to kiss him. Illya pulled Gaby closer. Maybe he could give in a little. On some cases. But not the Christmas party. That he wouldn’t do.


	2. Secretary

”Does Waverly have a new secretary?” Napoleon asked when he noticed Gaby sitting in the break room. Her legs were lifted on the chair next to her and she was flipping through a magazine.

“Yes”, Gaby said and lifted her eyes to Napoleon. “The previous one left to have a baby.”

“Congratulations to her”, Napoleon said and poured himself a coffee. He sniffed it and then poured it to the sink. Then he emptied the whole pot, rinsed it and started making new coffee. “What do you know about her?” He asked.

“The new or the old?” Gaby asked and looked her magazine.

“New”, Napoleon said.

Gaby shrugged her shoulders. ”Nothing much. She just started few days ago. Her name is Ruth and she has a brown hair. That is really all I can say.”

“Ruth”, Napoleon tasted the name in his mouth. ”That sounds so wholesome. Like somebody how can help with calving and doesn’t flinch at loud noises.”

Gaby frowned and glanced to Napoleon. “Do you need help with calving?”

“No. Not that”, Napoleon grinned and returned to the coffeepot.

“What are you going to get me for Christmas present?” Gaby asked.

“Am I buying you a present?” Napoleon asked.

”This year, yes. I feel like we should have traditions, like normal people”, Gaby said.

“We have traditions”, Napoleon insists.

“Like what?” Gaby asked.

“Like that every year we have always been in some operation when its somebody birthday, and we end up forgetting those, and then few weeks later, when we remember, we go out for dinner”, Napoleon said. “And the person whose birthday we have forgotten gets always choose the restaurant.”

“I don’t know if that’s a tradition”, Gaby sighed. “It’s more like being a bad friend.”

“But we do it consistently every time, so I feel like its tradition”, Napoleon said. “And it’s nice. Right?”

“Yes”, Gaby confessed. So maybe they didn’t celebrate of even remembered birthdays ever in the right day, but they did go out to dinner later and it was nice.

“And I actually have Christmas tradition too”, Napoleon said.

“Tell me” Gaby asked interested.

“At the 25th I go to my mother’s house and have Christmas dinner there. And my sisters are there and their families. I do it every year. It’s not that I actually enjoy it that much, but they make me. So it’s unavoidable. And then after that, I stay in bed until the next year.”

“The whole week?” Gaby asked.

“Yes”, Napoleon grinned.

“That sounds like more work than calving”, Gaby muttered. ”What do you want for Christmas?”

Napoleon didn’t really know. But he knew what he would buy for Gaby. Not the exact thing, but it would be something elegant and stylish. And she would wear it and Peril would be annoyed by it. So really it would be present for Gaby and himself.

“I’m having troubles to figuring out what I’m actually going to give”, Gaby said. “I thought it would be easy, but now my head is completely empty.”

“Are we all going to get present to all of us?” Napoleon asked.

Gaby laughed and sipped her coffee. She made a face and stood up to throw away the cold coffee. “I really don’t see that happening. I’m going to get present to everyone, and I expect one from all of you. But I really can’t see you and Illya exchange presents.”

Napoleon smiled. He leaned to the counter and waited the coffee to get ready. Gaby leaned next to him.

“Do you know is she seeing anybody?” Napoleon asked.

”Name and the colour of her hair”, Gaby said. ”That is everything I know.”

“She looks so decent”, Napoleon said. “Her shirt is buttoned up to her neck and her skirt covers her knees.”

“Maybe I could knit something to Illya”, Gaby pondered.

Napoleon glanced to Gaby. “I feel like we are having two different conversations.”

“We are”, Gaby said. “To be honest, I rather stayed out of your conversation. I know how it going to play out: you are going to seduce her and then never contact her again. And then every time we go in to Waverly’s office, it’s going to be awkward. Only because you can’t keep it in your pants.”

Napoleon frowned. “You have no fate in me, do you?”

“No”, Gaby said. ”But you know what, I know what your Christmas present to me can be. You can promise not to make things awkward before Christmas by seducing her.”

“Deal”, Napoleon grinned. He poured coffee in two cups and gave the other one to Gaby. “Can you knit?” He asked.

“No”, Gaby confessed and shrugged her shoulders. “But I’m good with fiddly things, and how hard could that be anyway?”


	3. The system

Gaby climbed to the bed and curled up next to Illya. For a while she didn’t say anything, just laid there and let him read.

“When you said that you don’t celebrate Christmas, I thought you meant that it’s because in Russia you celebrate New Year”, Gaby spoke calmly. “But after that I have discovered that there is also Christmas in Russia. It’s just week after New Year, not before. So I thought that you just didn’t want to tell me, and you didn’t really expect me to go to the library and read about Russian traditions. But then I started thinking, that maybe you didn’t mean that you didn’t specifically celebrated Christmas, you just don’t celebrate any holiday”, Gaby talked. “Right?”

Illya set the book down on his lap, but didn’t say anything.

“You are still little uncomfortable when one of us remembers your birthday and makes a fuss”, Gaby said. “Before we started to celebrate our birthdays late, when was the last time you did celebrated one?” Gaby asked carefully.

“Before my mother die”, Illya said.

“And you didn’t celebrated Christmas or New Year after that either?” Gaby asked.

“No”, Illya said.

“I should’ve realized that”, Gaby sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Illya put the book down on the bed and turned her head towards Gaby. ”It’s okay.”

“I was just so exited”, Gaby explained, “and wanted to try everything. I really didn’t think it trough. Maybe we should just take it slow and –“

“No”, Illya interrupted her and shook his head. “I don’t want you to stop being exited. When was the last time you celebrated Christmas?”

“Not at least in five or six years”, Gaby said. “I was living so long in this weird state of waiting where it didn’t matter was it Christmas or birthday or just Tuesday. And now, I actually feel like I live sort of normal life. And…”

“And what?” Illya asked.

”I would like some traditions”, Gaby said quietly and almost embarrass. “I don’t have any really. And if I’m not making them, then no one is”, Gaby sighed. “But I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do something you don’t want, just because I want it.”

Illya touched Gaby’s cheek gently with his fingertips. He had always thought that to have traditions you needed a family. And he had lost he´s and the traditions with it. But now he felt like he really didn’t know that much about families. Who was there to say that one German girl couldn’t be your family. And the truth was that he missed the traditions he had had with his family. And maybe now he could do those with Gaby.

“Maybe the baking was stupid idea”, Gaby confessed. “I mean, you have eaten something I’ve baked, so you know. And you don’t have to come to the Christmas party. It’s probably boring anyway.”

“No”, Illya said. “We will do it all.”

“What?” Gaby asked.

“Yes”, Illya said. ”All. The party, baking, presents, tree, everything you mentioned before. We will do everything.”

“Are you serious?” Gaby asked, smiling.

“Yes”, Illya said. “I’m not saying that I’m not going to regretted this, but I am serious. We will celebrate Christmas and New Year. And in New Year we are going to go through everything we have done and both of us can say all the things they don’t want to do anymore, which were stupid or left the apartment smelling like smoke.”

Gaby laughed. “That is very organized.”

“Take it or leave it”, Illya said.

“I will take it”, Gaby assured and pressed her head against Illya´s shoulder. She put her hand in his hand and let their fingers slide softy together. She felt his lips on her forehead. “What if one of us says no to everything and we have nothing left?” She asked.

“We have to choose how many times we can say no”, Illya said. “So that we can’t just say no to everything.”

“What if both want to say no?” Gaby asked. “Who will lose their turn then?”

“If both want to say no, then nobody”, Illya decided. “And if some reason we still manage to clear the whole list, we will go it through again. Both can choose, let’s say six things, and give them points from one to six and the six highest things will stay. That’s already six traditions.”

Gaby lifted herself against her elbow. ”Have you thought about this?” She asked.

“No”, Illya said.

”In that case all the credit to your system”, Gaby said. “I’m impressed. It’s not very spontaneous, but very impressive.”

“Do you have better way?” Illya asked.

“I was just going to talk about things, but now I really feel like we should use this system. Because it is very impressive and same time ridiculous.” Gaby smiled. ”So definitely this system. I think we may need a judge.”

”No we don’t”, Illya said smiling.

“We ask Napoleon”, Gaby decided. “He can be judge. He can even bring a date. We will have a party.”


	4. Silent night

Gaby woke up when the phone rang. She cursed in her mind. Thought, that she would have to run in the phone booth, felt like worst thing right now.

“Hello”, she muttered.

“Gaby?” Someone asked.

”Yes”, Gaby said. At least it wasn’t a seemingly wrong number, so it wasn’t the agency.

“Were you sleeping?” The voice asked. It sounded somehow familiar.

“Yes”, Gaby said and sit up.

Illya turned over. “Who is it?” He muttered. “Do we have to get up?”

“I don’t know”, Gaby said genuinely confused. “Who is this?”

“You can’t be serious?” The voice said in a long and smooth tone.

“Solo?” Gaby asked still unsure.

“Of course it’s me”, Napoleon said.

“Introduce yourself”, Gaby huffed. “That’s what people do when they call. Why are you calling this hour?” She asked. ”It’s…” Gaby grabbed the alarm clock from the bedside table and squint it, at the dim lights of streetlamps and the next door Christmas lights that were showing through the curtains. She just about saw the time. “Three”, Gaby huffed. “Why you are calling at three am? Is something happened? Something better have happened, because that would be the only reason why you would think it would be appropriate to call in this time of night.”

“I forgot I’m not in London”, Napoleon said apologetic. “Time difference. America. I’m sorry.”

”Are you kidding me?” Gaby huffed on the phone. Illya lifted himself to lean on his elbows.

“I actually need Peril”, Napoleon said. “He is the one I’m calling.”

Gaby gritted her teeth and passed the phone to Illya. “It’s for you.”

Illya took the phone and Gaby crawled out of the bed. She dragged herself in the bathroom. She bruised her knee against the doorframe and cursed in German. When she returned, Illya was still lying down. He was holding the phone and rubbing his forehead with his other hand. Gaby curled back next to him.

“Yes, everything is clear”, Illya grunted on the phone. “Of course I am. Are you trying to make me mad?”

Gaby huffed and took the phone from Illya. “You are making him angry, and it’s really late for that. Your phone time is over”, she said.

“What?” Napoleon said. ”We are discussing details of an operation.”

“Is this call important?” Gaby asked from Illya.

Illya muttered something and shook his head.

“Good night”, Gaby said on the phone. “If you ever call this time again, I will stab you in the face”, Gaby informed and ended the call.

“He was calling about the day after tomorrow”, Illya said.

“Are you making excuses for him?” Gaby asked with a lightest little grin.

“No”, Illya said. “He can do that himself.” He turned on his side and pulled Gaby against him.

Gaby rubbed her cheek on Illya´s chest. She felt the sleep drifting further away from her. “I’m not tired anymore”, she muttered.

“Yes you are”, Illya muttered and stroked clumsily her head. “Sleep.”

Gaby wiggled herself out of Illya´s grip and sighed. “I’m going to do something until I’m sleepy again”, she said and crawled up the bed.

“What?” Illya asked his eyes closed.

“I don’t know”, Gaby said. “Maybe I clean. People clean before Christmas. Christmas cleaning. I’ll start that.”

”Its three in the morning”, Illya muttered.

“Does it matter?” Gaby asked. ”I’m already up.”

Illya huffed and Gaby left him alone in the bed. She closed the bedroom door and turned the light on in the living-room. For a moment she just stood there, her hands on her hips and think what she would do. She couldn’t vacuum this late, or early. And there wasn’t that much to clean up. Washing up a few cups in the sink wouldn’t be much of a Christmas cleaning.

Finally Gaby decided that she could make room for the Christmas tree. She decided that if she would move the couch and the coffee table little aside and the console table with record player little towards the kitchen, there would be nice place to the tree in the corner. The console table was easy job, as were the coffee table. But the couch was heavy and she really needed to push it as hard as she could. She jumped when Illya suddenly opened the bedroom door.

“What. Are. You. Doing?” He asked slowly.

”Making room for the tree”, Gaby explained. “Was I making too much noise?”

“We don’t have a tree”, Illya said.

“Yet”, Gaby pointed out. “I’m preparing.”

Illya closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He stretched his neck slowly. “Its three am. You will stop moving the furniture now and get back to bed.” Illya said. ”I can’t do anything to Cowboy right now, but I will give him a black eye day after tomorrow. Because you are up, and now I’m up, and it’s not the right time to be up.”

Gaby pressed her hand back on her hips. “Well I’m sorry, but I really can’t just lie in the bed if I’m not tired. I’m going to do something else here. Something that doesn’t involve moving the furniture”, Gaby promised.

“No”, Illya said and pointed the bedroom door. “You go back to bed, now.”

Gaby frowned. “I’m not tired”, she argued.

“I will make you tired”, Illya grunted and stared her in the eyes.

Gaby swallowed. She wanted really to keep her mind. It’s not like she was just going to obey. But she was also breathing little heavier. Her heart was suddenly pounding and she felt like she was flushed. Her legs twitched. But she actually hadn’t moved anywhere. Her hands were still on her hips and she felt her palms sweating.

“Now”, Illya grunted and his voice was so low that Gaby could felt it in her stomach. She got her legs moving and when Illya slammed the bedroom door close after them, she was sure he had waked up some neighbors. Gaby could hear her own blood rushing in her veins.

“Take off your shirt”, Illya said in a low voice and nudge her in the bed. It was good because Gaby’s legs felt like pudding.


	5. The Nutcracker

It felt weird. Not the dress itself that felt only like satin should. But she had picked it by herself and that felt little weird. Gaby of course picked her own everyday clothes, but now she had bought an evening gown without anybody else making decisions or giving advises. It was teal satin and it had wavy hem which moved against her legs when she walked. It was sleeveless and it had a little collar. And whole collar and neckline was covered with blue and green gems and pearls, row after row. Gaby felt like Cleopatra. And not only that, she felt like an adult. She wasn’t just a girl in a short dress and bare legs; she was a woman who had power with her own life.

And still she worried what Illya would think about her dress.

But of course he liked it. It was always possible that he liked just the girl inside the dress, but Gaby felt like it wasn’t just that. When Illya looked her, he looked like he wanted to congratulate her for a good choice of dress. But he didn’t because he didn’t want her to think that maybe he hadn’t thought she could make a good choice.

“You look beautiful”, was what Illya said.

And that was just what Gaby wanted him to say. She smiled, stepped close to him and kissed him softly and during the short kiss she felt his palm pressing warmly on her lower back. It was odd and still liberating to kiss in public place where there were other people.

“Ready?” Illya asked when Gaby stepped away from him.

Gaby nodded and took hold of his arm when he offered it. She let go only when they had to move between the seats.

“Are you going to watch me again when it’s your favorite part?” Gaby asked with a hit of grin.

“Maybe”, Illya said and the corners of her mouth twitched. That made Gaby always feel special. She made that twitch happen.

The lights dimmed and the orchestra started to play. Gaby set the program on her lap and watched as the dancers entered the stage. This was what she had asked. Illya had promised her anything before the KGB had pulled him back and sent him to Siberia. And Gaby had wished that he would take her to see the Nutcracker at Christmas. Then she had been scared and paralyzed for weeks and just cling on the promise he had made. She had pushed away all the thoughts about what would happen to her, if he didn’t return. Every new day had taken her closer to that moment when she had to accept that he wasn’t going to come back ever again. But Illya had returned. He was there, right next to her, he was hers and he had taken her to see the Nutcracker. Just like he had promised.

Gaby took a deep breath. She concentrated to the ballerinas. The snowflakes came to the stage and Gaby remembered that night in New York, when they couldn’t leave because of blizzard. Napoleon hade told some women of he´s that Gaby was ballerina and Illya had told her to say that she had just danced the role of a snowflake. She remembered how childishly jealous she had been to that women because of all the attention Illya hade gave her. Even though Illya was only pretending to be charming because Napoleon had told him to be. Gaby remembered how Illya had taken care of her and her broken wrist. How he had made sure that she was taking her pain medication. He had made her dinner and told about his brother. And that was the Illya she almost had lost. The Illya who had stroked her ankles in Gibraltar and bound her wound in Russia. She could’ve lost all that. She wouldn’t be here, watching the ballet. She would go to bed alone. Nobody would be there to tell her to take her shirt off at three am. Nobody would kiss her neck at the garage when she was leaned under the bonnet.

“Are you okay?” Illya whispered.

Gaby nodded quickly, but couldn’t look Illya. If she would now see his worried expression, she probably would start to cry. Instead she took Illya´s hand in her own and kept it in her lap. She was squeezing it hard. So much harder than what was natural. Gaby could see in the corner of her eye that Illya glance at her, but didn’t say anything. He just let her squeeze his hand.

Just before the first act ended, Gaby bat her eyelids little too carelessly and let accidently one tear to run down her cheek. She let go of Illya´s hand and wiped it hastily away. Then the dancers luckily came back to take their bow and she concentrate to clap.

“You want to stay here of go to the foyer?” Illya asked.

“Foyer”, Gaby said. She wanted to move and calm down. End of the seats she took the arm Illya was offering and let him lead her out of the theater. Suddenly there were more people around her that she really cared for.

“Do you want a drink?” Illya asked.

Gaby nodded and looked around. ”I’m going to go by the windows”, she said and let go of Illya´s arm. She went to the window and pressed her hand against the cold glass, leaned to the frame and closed her eyes. She took deep breaths and let her heartbeat to settle. She felt stupid that she had let her emotion to take control like that. And she knew Illya would ask about it when he returned. She only opened her eyes when she heard him putting the glass on the little round table behind her. Gaby pushed herself off the window and went to him. She took the champagne glass and sipped. The drink was soothingly cold and tickled her nose.

“Are you okay?” Illya asked again.

“Yes”, Gaby said and finally got the courage to look at him. “I´m sorry.”

Illya shook his head. He didn’t need Gaby to be sorry. ”Was it because what happened in Russia?” He asked.

Gaby nodded. ”This just reminded me about that.”

Illya touched softly Gaby’s bare arm with his fingertips. “I’m here now.”

“I know”, Gaby sighed. She felt like another wave of emotions approached. “You can’t say things like that now”, she said. “Say something else. Something that has nothing to do with this.”

Illya frowned like everybody whose hade to think something else quickly and they realized they can’t think of anything.

“Napoleon interrupted your story”, Gaby said.

“When?” Illya asked.

“In Rome. At the Spanish steps. You were making up that stupid story about the Russian architect and his mother”, Gaby explained. “I just had asked did she give birth at the age of sixty-five when Napoleon came. You said no, so how would have you continued?”

Illya smiled little; he hadn’t thought that in a long time. “Well… She of course…”

“Yes?” Gaby asked and sipped her champagne.

“She wasn’t his biological mother”, Illya worked out. “She was the midwife. And when his real mother was dying on the childbed, she asked the midwife to raise her child like her own. And she did.”

Gaby laughed. She felt like the laugh finally started to sift the anxiety aside. “You know, I didn’t believe you could talk yourself out of that story.”

Illya shrugged his shoulders and smiled that little smile that Gaby loved. She stepped close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She hugged him tightly and felt Illya´s arms around her.

“Do you want to leave?” Illya whispered in her ear.

“No”, Gaby sighed. “I feel better.”

“Good”, Illya muttered. He let her grip to loosen up and leaned away so he could see Gaby’s face. She looked more relaxed than just five minutes ago.

“Thank you, Gaby said.

“Of what?” Illya asked.

”Coming back to me”, Gaby said and smiled. Illya touch Gaby’s cheek and she rubbed it against his hand, her eyes closed. When she opened her eyes she leaned back to closer and kissed him. Long and slowly, aside of everybody else.

The bell rang for the first time to tell the intermission was going to an end.

Gaby pulled away from Illya. She liked how he didn’t allow her pull away too far. She let her fingers to dance on Illya´s neck and collar.

“You look good”, Gaby said even though she had said it earlier.

Illya pressed a kiss under her ear and made Gaby sigh.

“You can’t continue that”, she muttered.

“Really?” Illya asked and kissed her neck, just above the collar.

Gaby made a little giggle and pushed him away. The bell rang for the second time.

“We have to go”, Gaby said and sipped the rest of her champagne.

Illya didn’t offer his arm to her. He just took her hand in his own and pulled her gently along. And Gaby didn’t let go until the dancers were finish and the curtain closed.


	6. Coins and tangerines

”Only thing I miss, is snow”, Gaby said as she was watching out of the window. The streets were wet and grey. Trees leafless and everybody outside was carrying an umbrella.

“There was snow last year”, Waverly reminded her. “I’m sure of it.”

“Yes, maybe an inch”, Gaby said. ”And it stayed on the ground for two days. I don’t mean that kind of snow. I mean the kind that covers everything like a thick and fluffy blanket. Snow you can build snowman with and ski. That kind of snow.”

”Well, it will come if it’s meant to be”, Waverly said vaguely and poured tea in Gaby’s cup. “Milk?”

Gaby pouted her lips little and shook her head. She knew Waverly was just testing her. She had once poured milk in Earl Grey and he still remembered that. She took the cup from Waverly and sat down.

Gaby wasn’t still quite sure what she was going to buy presents. Napoleon was easy. She would just by something fancy. I really didn’t matter what, as long it was elegant and classic. And Waverly… Waverly. Gaby looked her superior and think. He was wearing a grey three-piece suit, as he did most days. His tie was striped and red-blue. His ties were always striped or checked. And red-blue. Gaby decided to break his pattern. She would buy him a tie. It would be striped or checked, like he liked, but maybe a nice forest green. That’s it. A green tie and a something fancy.

Her real problem was Illya. She had been so excited for Christmas and present giving that she had taught that she would have hundreds of ideas, in which she would just choose one. But now her head was like empty page. All her ideas were boring and generic. Of course she could by him something easy, like a hat. But anybody could do that. Gaby needed idea that was personal and would make Illya feel himself special. Gaby’s idea of knitting him something had proven pointless. She had figure out how the actual knitting happened. She could do it, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that she didn’t want to knit.

“How long the chaps said they would need to this operation of theirs?” Waverly asked. “As usual, they were very vague with me. I’m sure you know better.”

”Three, maybe four days”, Gaby said. Illya had said something before he had left in the morning, but it probably wasn’t new information about the operation. He knew better then talk about that sort of things six in the morning, when she wasn’t really even up. But she remembered that he had said something before he had kissed her cheek. Probably something nice. And even though Gaby didn’t know what it had been, it still made her happy.

She sipped her tea as she did every Thursday at Waverly’s office and nibbled her biscuit. Waverly’s biscuits were always tasty. Gaby could taste the butter. She was sure, that he bought his biscuit from bakery, not grocery store. Well, her secretary bought them. Gaby really didn’t believe Waverly would buy his own biscuits.

“What people put in their Christmas stockings?” Gaby asked when she had eaten all her biscuits.

Waverly looked at her little baffled, because of the new topic, and set his teacup on the saucer. “Christmas stocking?”

“Yes”, Gaby sighed. ”I don’t understand it. Is it just more presents, or something else? Why is it a sock?”

“It’s an old tradition”, Waverly said. “Apparently Saint Nicolaus use to drop little pouches of coins in socks that were left to dry in the fireplace. When I was a child, there were coins in my Christmas stocking. But I don’t know do people do that anymore.”

“What if you don’t have a fireplace?” Gaby asked. “I don’t have.”

“It doesn’t really matter”, Waverly said. “You are the one who really stuffs the sock. There is no one to drops coins in them really.”

“What else do I put there than coins?” Gaby asked.

“I don’t know do people really put coins the anymore”, Waverly repeated.

“No, no”, Gaby said. “I like the coin thing. I’m going to put coins.”

“It’s traditionally stuffed with small gifts, chocolates, candy canes… tangerines”, Waverly explained. “That sort of things.”

“Tangerines”, Gaby said pondering.

”Yes”, Waverly nodded and sipped his tea. ”Coins and tangerines.”

“Coins and tangerines”, Gaby repeated and stared outside again. She could work with that. She liked tangerines.


	7. Missing you

Gaby picked up the ringing phone. “Hello.”

“эй.”

Familiar voice made Gaby smile. She rolled to lie on the bed. “Hi”, she said on the phone. “I didn’t expect a call.”

“I have time”, Illya said.

“Are you calling from the hotel?” Gaby asked.

“Phone booth”, Illya said. “Just in case.”

“Is everything okay there?” Gaby asked.

“Yes”, Illya said. ”Boring, but good.”

“I don’t like when you two do things without me”, Gaby said. “I feel like you are just going to get in trouble.”

“Technically you are still doing things with me”, Illya pointed out. “Have we done something nice?”

“We went to see Goldfinger yesterday. I wanted to see it again, because last time I just laughed and tried not to pee on myself. You were as furious as last time. Apparently James Bond knows nothing, hats can’t really kill people and everything was implausible.”

“It was”, Illya huffed.

“Of course it was”, Gaby said. “And today we had a fight.”

“About what?” Illya asked.

“I was playing music too loud, you wanted to relax. You said some hurtful things and I yelled you before storming out”, Gaby told. “It was very dramatic. But we make up already.”

“That’s nice to hear”, Illya said and frowned, even if he haven’t really said anything. “Sorry about the hurtful things.”

“It’s okay”, Gaby said. “I had it coming. You asked me to turn down the music several times.”

Illya smiled and shook his head. She really wasn’t one to make things nothing but thorough.

“Is it cold there?” Gaby asked and looked out the window. “It’s raining here.”

”It’s freezing”, Illya said.

“I feel bad for letting you stand outside talking on a phone”, Gaby said.

“I called you”, Illya reminded and Gaby could hear the smile in his voice.

Gaby smiled and just held the phone on her ear. She didn’t say anything for a while. But then again, neither did Illya. They just held their phones. Illya dropped more coins in the phone.

“I think we are using phone completely wrong”, Illya said finally.

Gaby laughed lightly. “I think that Mr. Bell wouldn’t appreciate that we aren’t actually speaking during the call. This feels little stupid.”

”I know”, Illya said. ”But it is nice to…”

“I know”, Gaby said gently. “Nice to just know you are there. I can hear you breath.”

Illya smiled.

“I can even hear you smiling”, Gaby said.

“Good”, Illya muttered. The air around him was cold, but Gaby made him feel warm.

“I miss you”, Gaby confessed. “Even though you have been gone just a few days.”

“I miss you too”, Illya said quietly. “It’s better to sleep next to you.”

Gaby took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to let herself just be carried away with her emotions. Besides she had just saw Illya yesterday morning. “I…” she started, but wasn’t sure if she wanted to continued. 

“You what?” He asked.

”This is silly”, Gaby said.

“Tell me anyway”, Illya asked.

“I just pick up the mail and put it on the table. And when you do it, you always take the letters separately and put them lean against the lamp. And you do it even when I pick up the mail. So the letter are always leaning against the lamp”, Gaby explained. “And when I came home today, the letters were just in the same pile with the newspaper.”

Illya smiled. Even the cold wind didn’t bother him.

“And I missed you because of that”, Gaby confessed embarrassed and was glad that he couldn’t see Illya´s face. She was sure that she was blushing. “Because of the mail.”

“Lucky to you I am coming back soon”, Illya said and dropped few coins in the phone. “I am sure you have also eaten just crackers for two days and left used cups on every table.”

“I may have”, Gaby laughed. “But I think it’s better than what you do. When I’m away you organized everything so precise that I’m sure you are using ruler.”

“No”, Illya said. “I just estimate.”

”That’s just makes it even scarier”, Gaby said smiling.

“Maybe it’s very healthy for us to live together”, Illya said. “And for the apartment.”

“Maybe”, Gaby said. ”We should probably keep that up. For the sake of the apartment.”

Illya dropped coin in. “I’m out of coins”, he said.

“How long you are going to be there?” Gaby asked. She had to say and ask everything important before he would disappear.

“Until tomorrow or the day after that”, Illya said. “It depends on Cowboy, and Sanders.”

Gaby nodded even though Illya couldn’t see it. “I see you when I see you.”

“Eat something else then crackers”, Illya said gently.

“And you drink something hot after you go back to the hotel”, Gaby said.

“I’m not going to get sick”, Illya assured.

“Still”, Gaby asked. “For me. And be safe.”

“Yes”, Illya promise.

Gaby wiggled her toes nervously. She had something to say, but like the few times before she had said it, it took an effort. And she was running out of time. “I love you”, Gaby said quietly. She still find it difficult to say. She felt it though. It was like a burning fire statue in her chest. But these were the first times she had ever said the words out loud and somehow she still had to make herself say it. It didn’t just drops naturally off her lips. But she still liked saying it, even if it made her nervous.

“I love you too”, Illya said. “I will se –“

And then Illya was gone. Gaby sighed and put the phone away. She lied down little longer before rolling up. She boiled herself few eggs and made a sandwich. It’s not like Illya would actually know if she didn’t eat anything but crackers, but he was still probably right suggesting her to eat something else.


	8. Sloppy and ashamed

Napoleon glance his watch. ”Right, five minutes.”

Illya nodded and Cowboy climbed over the little ledge. He lifted the binoculars. Cowboy picked the two locks of the back door less than fifteen seconds. Illya had to admit that it was quite impressive. Illya twitched his shoulders when chills run through him. He didn’t felt that good. He was watching the dark house but couldn’t see anything. Not Cowboy, not even the light beam of flashlight.

Cowboy returned back to the door and Illya glance his clock.

“Four minutes and thirty-eight seconds”, Illya said. “Did you get it?”

Napoleon showed a thick folder. ”Let’s go.”

They returned to the car and Illya started the engine. A new chill run through him.

“Are you okay?” Napoleon asked.

“Yes”, Illya said shortly. “What Sanders has in that file?”

Napoleon opened the folder and went through it. “Pretty much what Waverly thought it might be: Reports about me. Statements from specialists”, he muttered. ”Hmm. Some very compromising photographs”, he said grinning and looked one of the pictures more closely.

“Don’t show me”, Illya asked. “Is this everything he had about you?”

“Yes”, Napoleon said. “All the documents are original. So if he has copies somewhere, a case can be made that they are counterfeit. ”

“All these Christmas lights hurt my eyes”, Illya huffed when they drove the suburban streets. “Why aren’t they building real snowmen? Why do they have plastic ones?”

“Grinch”, Napoleon muttered.

“What?” Illya asked.

”Nothing”, Napoleon said. ”And they can’t, because there is no snow yet. It’s so depressing December. I would much rather be doing what my alibi is saying, then be here wandering in the dark streets.”

“What dark streets?” Illya asked frowning. “There is coloured lights everywhere.”

“The point was, that I would much rather be doing something else”, Napoleon said.

“So what is your alibi, if you need one?” Illya asked and then realized what he had just said. “You know, I will take that back. I don’t want to know.”

Napoleon grinned. “A wise decision, Peril. Let’s just say that a pretty waitress has been keeping me busy in Brooklyn. She had some time off, I had some time off, and it’s been fun. Not as much fun than it would’ve been if I actually would be there”, he said little disappointed. “What you have been doing?”

“Apparently we went to a movies”, Illya said. ”Gaby wanted to see Goldfinger again.”

Napoleon laughed. “I don’t blame her. I missed most of the film too. But you were very entertaining.”

Illya frowned.

”Gaby feels like we should have traditions”, Napoleon said. “I feel like James Bond should be our tradition. There’s new one coming.”

Illya rolled his eyes. Somehow he knew that this was thing that he couldn’t avoid. He knew that when Cowboy would tell Gaby, her eyes would light up and she would probably jump of an excitement. And Illya didn’t want to take that away from her.

“Or is it out already”, Cowboy pondered out loud. “Well if it’s not yet, it is soon.”

“Excellent”, Illya muttered sarcastically. The chills run through him again and he sniffed.

“Are you sick?” Napoleon asked.

“No”, Illya grunted. “Stop asking that.” He pulled the car on the curb, outside Sanders house, where Cowboy had already visited. “We are here.”

“Great”, Napoleon said and pulled a black beanie in his head. He handed a crowbar to Peril. “Remember to be sloppy. We need to make this look like we didn’t have any idea what we were going.”

Illya nodded quickly and they climbed out of the car. The streets were empty, but every house was light up. Sanders house was only one without a lights. It was eight a clock and everybody were at home and breaking and entering was really stupid thing to do. So this was the time to do it. They walk across the yard. Illya hit the crowbar between the door and frame and twisted. The white painted wood shattered in to splinters. He hit the crowbar again in the crack and forced the door open.

“Two minutes”, Cowboy said and they entered the house. He yanked the first two paintings off the wall right in the hallway. They didn’t look valuable, but that didn’t matter. They stayed in the first floor and went through the rooms. Illya swipe all the candlesticks off the mantelpiece in the bag. Then he hit a crack in the mirror above the mantelpiece. Napoleon opened drawers and just messed things up, without actually take anything. He stopped at the study’s door. He had already fetched the folder from the safe there, but now he noticed the stuffed wild boars head. Sanders had told the story about how he had tracked it for five hours so many times that Napoleon knew it by heart. And he hated that story.

Illya stopped at the study’s door and watch Cowboy yanking the stuffed wild boars head from the wall. “What are you doing?”

“Help me”, Napoleon said. ”He is screwed it in.”

Illya sighed, but went to help. He hit the crowbar under the head and forced it off the wall.

“Hah, you stuffed bastard, you are mine now”, Napoleon muttered.

“Let’s go”, Illya said. ”Time is up. Somebody could’ve already call the cops.”

They left the house arrogantly throw the front door. Illya was carrying the paintings and Napoleon hade his boar head. Illya started the engine and reverse the car over the plastic snowman.

“Rude”, Napoleon said.

They drove back to the city and stopped to dump the stolen items in the Hudson. Napoleon smiled when the boar head disappeared in the black water. When they left the stolen car in an alley, Illya broke the driver window and just threw the crowbar in the car.

“This was without a doubt a sloppiest burglary I have ever done”, Napoleon said. “I feel little ashamed.”

“It was supposed be sloppy”, Illya said.

“Still”, Napoleon sighed. “Ashamed.”

“Why did you need to get that head with you?” Illya asked

“I hate that boar”, Napoleon said. ”He had it coming.”

“Right”, Illya muttered and shivered when the chills went through him.

“How long you are going to insist not being sick?” Napoleon asked.

“I´m not sick”, Illya assured.

“I would like to be there when you try to convince Gaby”, Napoleon laughed.


	9. Superior immunity

”You should go to bed,” Gaby suggested. ”It would be good for you.”

“I’m fine,” Illya said from the couch.

Gaby looked him, her brows lifted high and her arms crossed. Illya didn’t look fine. He looked like something was pulling his shoulders together inside of him. His nose was a little red and he was breathing through his mouth.

“You are sick,” Gaby said.

“No,” Illya denied.

“Why don’t you just admit it?” Gaby asked. ”It’s probably just a cold. Everybody gets those sometimes.”

“I don’t,” Illya insisted, annoyed. He was feeling just fine.

Gaby went to him and placed her hand on his forehead. Illya leaned quickly away, but Gaby had already felt the temperature.

“I think you have a fever,” she suspected.

“No, I don’t,” Illya said between his teeth. “Just drop it.”

Gaby shook her head to his stubbornness. ”I’m going to make you some tea.”

“I don’t need tea,” Illya replied.

“Fine. I’ll just make it for me,” Gaby said. “You can have cup too, if you want, or if there’s any left.” She went to the kitchen and avoided listening Illya´s excuses. Of course Illya couldn’t be sick. Where would he have gotten sick? Not with his superior immunity. Other people got sick, but not Illya Kuryakin. He was a Russian superspy who made sickness run away afraid.

Gaby returned to the living-room and handed a cup of tea to Illya. “I accidentally made too much and I didn’t want to waste it. So I made a cup for you too,” she explained. “You know what? I was wrong. You look actually better already.”

Illya took the cup.

“Do you want to go out for dinner?” Gaby asked.

“Isn’t there food here?” Illya asked.

”Yes,” Gaby said. ”But I was thinking that we could go out. Because you are feeling just fine.”

Illya frowned. He had a bad feeling about this. And also he didn’t felt that good.

“Or if you like, we can go jogging together,” Gaby said. “The weather is quite nice. Or we can go to down town to do something.”

“I would rather stay at home,” Illya said.

“Okay.” Gaby nodded. “We can do something here.” She stood up and went to pick up a record. She put a Beatles record in the record player and turned the volume high. “Do you want to dance?”

“No, thank you,” Illya said and put his cup on the coffee table.

“I can’t hear you,” Gaby almost yelled and turned the volume higher. “I LOVE THIS SONG.”

Illya pressed his hands to his forehead. Gaby noticed that and turned the volume lower.

“Is the music bothering you?” she asked.

“No,” Illya grunted. ”No more than usual.” Every note made his head ache little bit more. He was sure it would just be easier if Gaby would put him out of his misery.

Gaby nodded and turned the music back up. She made few dance moves on the floor and tried to yank Illya up. “Come. Just a few spins.” But Illya was too heavy her to move. “Fine, I´ll dance by myself. It’s no fun, but I’m doing it,” Gaby said. She spread her arms and spun in the middle of the floor.

Illya felt like the pain in his forehead made his sight blur. His muscles were sore and his throat was dry.

Gaby danced near Illya and purposely nudged his knees, which made him twitch. Illya lifted his head and said something.

“I can’t hear you,” Gaby said loudly.

Illya pointed the record player powerlessly.

Gaby turned the music lower. “Do you want me to turn this off?” she asked, still loudly.

“Yes,” Illya muttered.

Gaby turned the music off and sat next to Illya on the couch. “We can do something you want to do,” she said. “Do you want to go shooting or sparring?” she asked and made few playful boxing moves against Illya´s arm.

“No,” Illya muttered.

“Do you want to have afternoon sex?” Gaby asked with a little grin, like Napoleon. “On the couch?

Illya looked like he didn’t know how to handle a situation where a girl suggested sex, but you might be too weak to actually do it, or to survive it.

“Now, if you were sick, I would just help you to the bedroom,” Gaby told him gently, “and I would help you take your clothes off. And we would put you into something warm and comfortable and then tuck you into bed. I would get you some orange juice and aspirin and then I would stroke you hair until you fell asleep,” Gaby continued. “But you are not sick, so we are not doing that.” She sighed loudly and exaggeratedly. “What should we do? What should we do?” she muttered to herself. Then she smiled and turned back to Illya. “I know. We should –”

”Fine,” Illya interrupted her and Gaby went quiet. ”Maybe I’m not feeling that good,” he confessed. “I don’t think I’m sick,” he still insisted, “but I have felt better.”

Gaby smiled him this little gentle smile. “Do you want to go to bed and have some aspirin?”

Illya nodded slowly.

“And get your hair stroked?” Gaby asked

Illya nodded again. He hated how sweet Gaby looked. She could at least be a little smug, but she was just kind.

Gaby stood up and took hold of Illya’s hands. “Come on. Let’s go.”


	10. Tolstoy

Gaby put the hot bowl on a plate and walked slowly in the bedroom. ”I made you some chicken soup,” she said, and put the plate in the nightstand. “It’s still probably too hot.”

“You made soup?” Illya asked and glanced at the bowl suspiciously.

“Well, Campbell made it,” Gaby told. “But I heated it up. With these hands,” she added and showed her palms.

“Impressive,” Illya muttered.

Gaby crawled onto the bed and leaned on the pillows stacked against the headboard. She picked up a thick book on the bed. “Do you want to continue?” she asked.

Illya nodded, moving his head slowly on Gaby’s thigh.

Gaby searched the point where they had stopped in the morning and resumed reading. She kept the book against her other thigh and stroked gently Illya’s hair. She only stopped to turn the page, but always returned her hand in to his hair. Sometimes she let her fingertips to wander over his cheek or neck, but was always very gentle. She read in Russian how love first caused troubles to Levin, when Kitty refused his proposal and then to Kitty, when Vronsky didn’t propose at all. Gaby couldn’t see Illya’s face, but his breath was not that deep or even enough for sleep.

Gaby was happy that Illya had overnight gotten rid of the need to pretend to be feeling better than he actually did. She felt that it was better to be sick and just accept some care. It was easier for everybody. And Gaby liked to take care of Illya. She liked sitting on the bed and reading Anna Karenina out loud in Russian. She liked that he was resting his head in her lap and had the courage to finally show that even superspies sometimes needed someone to stroke their hair and warm their soup.

Illya interrupted Gaby’s reading and gently corrected her pronunciation. Gaby repeated the word a few times, until Illya nodded against her thigh. Then she read the sentence again. She continued reading for a while and then reached for the soup. Illya didn’t really want to get up, so Gaby just put the plate on the bed and let him eat it lying down. She kept reading and made sure that he really ate.

“You know, for a book that is called Anna Karenina, there is very little Anna Karenina,” Gaby commented.

“She comes in little later,” Illya muttered and ate his soup.

“I don’t need her anymore,” Gaby sighed. “I’m already attached to the other characters. I feel sorry for Levin. He was so in love.”

“He is fine,” Illya said.

“But he got rejected and is unhappy,” Gaby said. “And his brother is mean. Both his brothers are.”

“You know how he ends up,” Illya said.

“No,” Gaby said.

Illya turned his head a little to look at Gaby. ”What you mean, no? Don’t you know what happens in Anna Karenina?”

“She dies,” Gaby said. “Jumps under a train. Everybody knows that.”

”Have you read it?” Illya asked.

”No,” Gaby said. ”I didn’t need to. I knew she died. What I didn’t know was that there are so many other characters.”

Illya found comfortable spot for his head. “I can’t believe you haven’t read Anna Karenina,” he muttered.

”Finish your soup,” Gaby said. “And I don’t really like her.”

“Why?” Illya asked.

”If I were living in 19th century Russia and part of the society of St. Petersburg and Moscow, I don’t think we would be friends. She doesn’t seem a very likeable character,” Gaby said.

“Everybody loved her in the book,” Illya muttered.

“Maybe that’s it. She’s supposedly so perfect. She dressed simple yet fashionably, she is beautiful and she has perfect hair and everybody just falls in love with her. To me, she seems boring and quite selfish,” Gaby said.

“You can’t say that,” Illya said. “She is one of the most famous literary characters.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like her,” Gaby pointed out. “Besides, doesn’t she cheat on her husband and then commit suicide? Those aren’t really good qualities in a person. I like Levin. He’s maybe a little lost and awkward, but he is decent and he isn’t shy about manual labor. I like that. I hope he doesn’t jump in front of a train.”

“I’m not telling you,” Illya mumbled.

“I’m not continuing reading until you do,” Gaby said. “Will he be happy?”

“You have to promise that you don’t ask any more,” Illya said.

“I promise,” Gaby said.

”He’s going to be happy,” Illya said.

“Good,” Gaby said, smiling. “You want to continue?”

Illya just nodded and rubbed his cheek on Gaby’s thigh. It was warm and a nice place to rest. He didn’t say it out loud, but he hoped Gaby wouldn’t tell Cowboy what they were doing. He didn’t have to know what they did behind closed doors, especially if it involved stroking his hair and reading out loud.

Illya let Gaby continue to read. He lay down and just inhaled her scent and listen to her Russian. And reading out loud was good for Gaby too. At work and with Cowboy and Waverly they spoke English and usually that just stayed on. But when they stayed together longer just the two of them, they gradually sifted to their native languages. The soft whispers in the bedroom were said in Russian and German. Heated arguments were usually spoken in both. It was easier to argue in your own language when the other one understood it.

But of course Illya preferred when Gaby spoke Russian to him.


	11. Girls, girls, girls

Gaby had always been bad about making friends with other girls. Not as a child, but when she started dancing ballet she had noticed that. She had struggled to make friends. Some of the girls were only focusing on the dancing, but the ones who, like her, didn’t live for dance, were too soft or just plain mean. It wasn’t one or two times when she was fighting in the toilets. Gaby let Illya think that he had taught her to punch, but really she had learned that at the ballet school. 

Then her life was for many years just cars and mechanics, and she noticed that she was really the only girl there. If she wanted to accompany the other girls, they were always somebody’s girlfriends, not really her friends. And it was clear that she wasn’t liked. When she realized that it was because the other girls thought that she was after their boyfriends, she had made the mistake of trying to explain that wasn’t the case. That just made things more awkward. So Gaby gave up. And she really didn’t need girlfriends when she was just waiting instead of living. And then few years she had just drove fast, act other people and stared Illya secretly.

But now she felt like her life was sort of balanced. She still drove fast and sometimes act like other people, but she also just went to the grocery store and had dinner in the pub and watched “Double Your Money” every Monday. And now she had started to think that she was ready to get some other people in her life. What if she wanted to get her hair done and needed to ask opinions of somebody? Of course she had two people giving those, but it wasn’t quite the same. And she really couldn’t talk about things involving Illya with Napoleon, because he mostly just used those against him. And sometimes she wanted to go dancing. And Gaby felt really strongly that she needed girlfriends for things like that.

And now she was staring ones. She had left Napoleon and Illya by the table to go through the files and moved to pour tea for herself, so she could observe her targets more closely. There was one blonde and two brunettes, one with long, straight hair and one with a bob. They were all gathered around the blonde’s desk. They were approximately Gaby’s age and dressed as fashionably as they dared at the male-dominated workplace. Gaby felt little stupid when she stared at them. They were talking and laughing quietly. The blonde one covered her mouth so that she wouldn’t laugh too loud. They all looked to the table where Napoleon and Illya sat, then they glanced at Gaby, and then laughed again.

Gaby stopped staring and just concentrated on her tea.

“We didn’t laugh at you,” somebody said and Gaby looked up. The blonde one was looking straight at her.

Gaby nodded.

”You are Agent Teller,” the blond said. “Right?”

“Gaby,” she said, like she said to most people. She didn’t mind being Agent Teller, but for normal everyday conversations she liked to be just Gaby. And that gave a cute and kind picture of her and she liked to see the expressions on people’s faces when they mistook that for naiveté or weakness. She liked to keep everybody on their toes.

”We were just wondering,” the blond said. “Do you ever just stare at them when you are working? Just admire the bone structure and muscles? I fear I might do that.”

The two others nodded and all of them seemed interested in hearing Gaby’s answers.

Gaby looked at the table and then back to the girls. “Sometimes,” she said, even if that wasn’t completely true. “But then usually one of them speaks. It’s really hard to dreamily stare at somebody when they are bickering about fashion or gadgets,” Gaby said and made everybody laugh. And Gaby knew that this was her route to girlfriends: she had something they wanted, she had knowledge, and she had stories about Illya and Napoleon.

“So which one you like to stare at?” the one with a bob asked.

Gaby shrugged her shoulders. “Whichever is shirtless at the moment.”

Everybody laughed at Gaby’s lie. She had seen Napoleon shirtless maybe twice and most of the times that Illya was shirtless had nothing to do with work. But she wasn’t going to some little details hinder her.

***

“What do you think she is talking to them about?” Napoleon asked. “They’re all laughing.”

“Are you afraid that she is telling stories about you?” Illya asked without lifting his eyes off the papers. “You shouldn’t worry. I’m sure all she is saying is true.”

“I find this suspicious,” Napoleon said.

***

”Everybody knows his reputation,” the brunette said. ”So should I be worried that he hasn’t tried me yet?”

Gaby shook her head. “He’s just been busy. I wouldn’t worry, I sure it’s just a matter of time. What’s your last name?”

“Walters,” the brunette answered.

”That’s it. He hadn’t just got to you yet. I’m sure he is going through the women in alphabetical order,” Gaby claimed. “It’s probably next week when he is at your desk, lifting his eyebrows and grinning that grin of his. You should know that he might be very skillful in the bedroom, but it will probably be a one-time thing. He may send you flowers. He does that. He keeps probably at least three flower shops in business all by himself.”

***

“They are laughing again,” Napoleon muttered.

“I can hear it,” Illya said. “Go ask what they are talking about, if you are so interested.”

***

“He looks like he could bulldoze a house,” the blonde said.

“I bet he has, at some point,” Gaby nodded.

“I can only imagine what that would be like in bed,” the blonde continued. “I mean it can’t be easy. You would probably be bruised for days.”

Gaby shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t think he is like that. I think he’s gentler than he seems.”

“I wouldn’t mind the bruises,” the blonde said smiling.

“Sometimes I can just imagine that he is the sort of man who likes his hair being stroked and somebody reads Russian classics to him out loud,” Gaby said and made everybody laugh.

***

“They’re all looking at you,” Napoleon muttered.

Illya lifted his eyes from the papers and turned to look towards Gaby. All four women turned their heads away when he looked. They were giggling. Illya frowned and turned back to Cowboy. ”I don’t like this.”

***

“Sometimes it’s hard,” Gaby said boldly. She was just making things up as she went. “Especially if you are wrapping somebody’s abs in a bandage at the back seat of a car. You just have to remind yourself that you are at work and it would be really unprofessional to lick those.”

Everybody laughed.

Then the one with the bob looked at her watch. “It’s five a clock, thank God,” she sighed. “I’m going to need a big gin. And maybe a little splash of tonic.”

“We are going to get some drinks,” the blond said. “Just the pub in the corner. Do you want to come?”

“Sure,” Gaby said without even thinking was she finished with her work for the day. “I’m just going to tell them,” she said and pointed at Illya and Napoleon.

“We’ll meet you at the elevator,” the brunette said.

Gaby turned around, returned to the table and grabbed her handbag off the chair. “I’m going to go. I’m going to continue this,” she said, pointing at the folders, “tomorrow.”

“What you were talking about with them?” Napoleon asked and pointed after the blond.

Gaby shrugged her shoulders. “Girl things.”

“Did you talk about me?” Napoleon asked

“You, Illya, muscles in general,” Gaby admitted.

“Muscles?” Illya repeated.

“Yes,” Gaby said. ”They really responded well to stories about those. So I told about the times when you were shirtless and lifting heavy objects.”

Napoleon and Illya both frowned and glanced at each other.

“Has that ever happened?” Napoleon asked slowly.

”Not that I remember,” Gaby said. ”But I made up most of the things anyway. But now I’m going to have a drink with them. And I’m going to objectify both of you and make up stories where I am especially brave and one or both of you are bleeding and showing lots of skin. I’ll see you later,” she said, winked at Illya, and left.

Napoleon frowned as he watched her go. “She just left us because of girls.”

“This is first time you have been in this side of situation, isn’t it?” Illya asked and crossed his arms on his chest.

“I don’t like this,” Napoleon huffed.


	12. Into the woods

Gaby and Illya had been walking in the woods about half an hour, and were yet to find nothing. The air was brisk and bright, and the forest smelled nice.

“Remind me again, why we are here?” Gaby asked her hands on her hips.

“We are getting a tree,” Illya said.

“Yes, but why we are not buying it from street corner with money, like capitalists?” she asked and grinned.

Illya tried not to grin back, but didn’t quite manage that. “You wanted traditions,” he said. “And this is what we did when I was a child. We went to forest to cut our own tree.”

Gaby nodded. She watched the forest, but couldn’t see any fir trees. “You know, there are many more firs in Germany.”

Illya frowned. “As is in Russia.”

”Okay,” Gaby sighed. ”I’m going to go this way and shout if I see one,” she decided. “Or if a bear attacks me.”

“There are no bears in UK,” Illya said.

Gaby frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Illya said.

“Well, I’ll yell if there’s wolf then,” Gaby corrected and start walking.

“There’s no wolves either,” Illya said.

Gaby didn’t stop. “Well, any big predator. Whichever is the biggest,” she talked as she went.

“Badger,” Illya said after her.

Gaby stopped and turned to face Illya. Her whole face was crimped. “Badger,” she huffed. “Are you saying there are no big predators in this country? No lynx? Wolverines?”

“No,” Illya said. “Do you really miss predators?” he asked.

“No, not really, but I feel like there should be some,” Gaby said, still frowning. “I mean, that’s the point of the woods: you can tell people not to go there, because a wolf or bear would snatch them. There’s no point if there’s nothing to fear. It’s just trees. And not even firs.”

“Well, you shout if you see a badger,” Illya said, and started to walk at the opposite direction.

“No, I won’t,” Gaby said after him. “That would be just embarrassing.” She started walking again and shouted after him: “WE SHOULD REALLY CONSIDER MOVING SOME REAL COUNTRY. SOMEWHERE WHERE THERE ARE REAL TREES AND REAL WOLVES. LIKE ROMANIA. IT WAS LOVELY AND WILD.” 

Illya smiled as he walked. “YOU LIKE LONDON. AND YOU HATED ROMANIA.”

“YES. BUT SOMEHOW I FEEL REALLY STRONGLY ABOUT WOLFS RIGHT NOW,” Gaby yelled and climbed over a tree trunk. “THINK ABOUT IT. WE CAN FARM CABBAGES OR WHATEVER THEY DO THERE.” 

Illya laughed quietly to himself. He was sure Gaby would hate farming cabbages.

Gaby shook her head while she jumped over a little stream. She found it ridiculous that something as small as badger could be the biggest predator. Was one badger even enough for anything? A hat? Gaby pouted. Now when she thought about it some more, she was sure that badger would make a fabulous hat. Or a muff. A muff she would keep, but the hat she would give to Napoleon.

She continued walking and looking around. She pushed herself forcefully through a bush, which was stupid, and walked around the next one. Finally she saw a fir, three in fact. They looked small, but when she climbed to the little hill they were, she noticed that they were probably taller than Illya.

“ILLYA” Gaby yelled and her voice echoed from the tree trunks. She picked a branch from the ground and hit it against the nearest oak. She hit the trunk five times every thirty seconds. She stopped when she saw Illya coming.

“Very good voice beacon,” Illya complimented when he climbed to the hill. “Even sound. Regular repeat. Very easy to locate.”

“Thank you,” Gaby said and smiled.

Gaby held the lower branches away so that Illya could saw easier. Then they dragged the fir back to the car. They had walked further than Gaby remembered and were both out of breath. The back windows had to be opened slightly so that they could tie the tree on the roof. The top of the tree swung in front of the windscreen and every time Gaby hit the brakes it waved and swept the bonnet. And each time Gaby frowned.

“It won’t fall down,” Illya said but Gaby still drove slower than she had in a long time.

When they got the tree through the hallway and front door, they just leaned it against the wall. The top hit the ceiling and was almost a foot too tall.

“Well, we can´t just cut it off,” Gaby said. “It would look stupid. We need to saw a bit from the trunk.”

“Do we have a stand to put this in?” Illya asked.

“Minor details,” Gaby said and flicked her hand, instead of confessing they in fact did not have.

“That is a fine sample of turning your back to a problem,” Illya said and the corners of his mouth twitched.

“Thank you,” Gaby sighed solemnly.


	13. Savile Row

Napoleon stroked the collar of his blue suit. The wool was soft and smooth. He turned a little sideways to see the suit at a different angle. The man with gray hair, sharp powder blue shirt, grey waistcoat and a tape measure hanging on his neck yanked the sleeves subtly.

“I will sew the buttons myself today,” the man said. “It’ll be ready tomorrow, Mr. Solo.”

“Excellent, Bernard,” Napoleon said and turned again. “What do you think?”

Gaby nodded approvingly from the dark green wing chair. ”It’s very stylish.”

Napoleon looked at himself again in the mirror and nodded too. He set the collar better.

“Could I get you some refreshments, Mr. Solo?” Bernard asked. “Lagavulin, sixteen year old single malt, smoky and long.”

“That sounds just perfect, Bernard,” Napoleon said.

“Miss Teller?” Bernard asked Gaby.

“Yes, please,” Gaby said smiling. She stood up and walked the hat racks. “Do you have a top hat?” she asked.

“No,” Napoleon said.

“That´s a shame,” Gaby sighed. “You are the only man I know who could possibly pull something like that off.”

“Thank you,” Napoleon said.

Gaby took a bowler hat and pressed it on her head. She looked at herself in the mirror. Napoleon took a checked wool scarf from the shelf and tried it on his shoulders. Gaby took the bowler hat off and walked along the hat rack. She picked up a tweed cap.

“These look like Illya´s hats,” Gaby said and stroked the tweed with her thumb.

Napoleon glanced at Gaby and the hat. “Yes, but better quality and more stylish.”

”I like his hats,” Gaby said.

”Of course you do,” Napoleon said. ”You have gone all soft inside.”

“No, I haven’t,” Gaby denied.

“Yes, you have,” Napoleon said. “You both have.”

Gaby huffed and rolled her eyes. She didn’t bother arguing. Neither one of them was going to yield, so it would be pointless. It was better to agree to disagree.

Bernard came back with a silver tray, handed a glass of scotch to Napoleon, then walked to the hat rack to give the other one to Gaby.

“Thank you, Bernard,” Gaby said and sniffed her drink. She didn’t actually know that much about whisky, but she felt like sniffing was the thing to do. The amber drink was smoky and a little sweet.

“This is excellent,” Napoleon said. “Very nice pick, Bernard.”

”Look, this one is checked,” Gaby said.

Napoleon glanced at her and watched Gaby to put the chocolate brown checked cap on her head. She looked at herself in the mirror, then turned to face him. One hand was on her hip and with the other she was holding the scotch.

“How do I look?” Gaby asked.

“Surprisingly pretty,” Napoleon confessed. “It’s a good colour and nice tweed.”

Gaby nodded and fingered the hats. She picked two blue ones and went to Napoleon. She compared them against his new suit and then rose on her tiptoes, to put the matching one on his head. Napoleon set the tweed cap better on his head and looked at himself at the mirror. Gaby stepped next to him to watch herself and they both sipped their scotch.

“If I had a long oilskin jacket and shotgun, I would look like I was going hunting with the aristocracy,” Napoleon said.

Gaby nodded. “Yes, you would.”

Napoleon frowned as he pondered. “Do Russians give presents at New Year?”

“Yes. But we decided that we wouldn’t do that,” Gaby said.

Napoleon hummed and looked the cap at different angle. “Now how serious was that decision?” he asked.

“Why?” Gaby asked.

“Just asking,” Napoleon said and shrugged his shoulders a little.

Gaby pouted and watched Napoleon through the mirror. Napoleon straightened his tie and watched Gaby. Gaby lifted her hand slowly and touched the cap. Napoleon lifted his brows and grinned so slightly that it almost wasn’t there. But it was.

“And this would be a gift to everybody,” Napoleon said very cavalier, like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Gaby nodded slowly. They were still looking at each other through the mirror.

“Yes,” Gaby said finally. “Let’s do it.”

“Bernard,” Napoleon said and looked at the man and pointed the cap on his head. “What pattern would you recommend for a 6' 5 Russian? Something that goes well with blond hair, blue eyes and anger.”

Bernard went to the hat rack and looked around. Finally he lifted a gray cap. “Classic herringbone tweed, woven with three different greys and a light blue.”

“Perfect,” Napoleon said.

Gaby went to Bernard and took the cap from him. “What would we do without you, Bernard?” she sighed, smiling. This was first time Gaby had ever met Bernard, but Napoleon’s behavior was rubbing off on her.

“Dressed like peasants, I’m sure,” Bernard said and nodded politely.

Gaby moved to touch the scarves and let Napoleon continue to examine his suit. “I understand why you like Savile Row,” Gaby said and sipped her scotch. “People are so polite,” she went on, and took a deep breath. “And every store smells like wool and leather. I like that.”

Napoleon nodded. “It’s a fine fragrance,” he agreed.

Gaby went back to Napoleon, stood next to him in front of the mirror and looked at him through that. “We should live here.”

Napoleon nodded and they clinked their glasses together.


	14. Red, gold and silver

It was a peaceful evening. Illya played chess against himself and Gaby was decorating the tree. It was in a stand and the top didn’t hit the ceiling anymore. Frank Sinatra’s Christmas music was playing quietly somewhere in the background and Gaby hummed along as she decorated.

“All the red ornaments are on the other side of the tree,“ Illya said suddenly.

“What?” Gaby asked and turned to Illya.

Illya leaned on the couch and pointed to the tree. “All the red is on the other side.”

Gaby frowned. “No, it’s not.”

Illya nodded.

Gaby looked the tree. ”It’s just fine.”

“Come look from here.”

Gaby huffed, but went anyway. She walked behind the couch and slid her hand against Illya’s shoulders. He lifted his other hand to touch her wrist. “Well, maybe there are few more on the other side,” Gaby confessed. “But it doesn’t matter.”

“It would look better if you would spread those around,” Illya suggested.

Gaby climbed over the couches back and sat down. “You can fix it.”

“You were decorating the tree,” Illya pointed out.

“But you are the one who is bothered,” Gaby said and pointed the tree. “Be my guest.”

Illya stood up and went to the tree. He moved three red baubles on the other side and returned to the couch.

“Better?” Gaby asked snippily.

“Yes,” Illya said.

Gaby stood up and started hanging the gold baubles. She smiled to herself while hanging them.

“Are you doing that on purpose?” Illya asked after a while.

“What?” Gaby asked.

Illya stood up and went to Gaby. ”It is just one big cluster,” he accused.

Gaby held her smile and shook her head. “I don’t see that.” Then she picked the box of silver baubles from the floor and handed those to Illya. “If you feel like I’m not doing a good job, you can hang the silver ones.”

“Fine,” Illya said and took the box from Gaby.

For a moment they hung the ornaments and everything was peaceful again.

“Are you moving my baubles?” Gaby asked.

“No,” Illya lied.

“Yes, you are,” Gaby said, frowning. “Right,” she huffed and moved one of Illya’s silver ornaments.

“You can’t move those,” Illya said. “They are evenly placed right where they are supposed to be.”

Gaby lifted her brows and moved another silver bauble right next to another silver one.

Illya frowned and for a while they just stared at each other in front of the tree.

“Okay,” Gaby sighed finally. “The left side is yours and the right side mine. Both can hang the ornaments like they want.”

“Fine,” Illya said tightly.

Gaby faced the tree again and started moving the ornaments. She broke the even pattern Illya had made and Illya started making sense of Gaby’s cluttered order. Gaby took a gold bauble in the middle of the tree.

“That is on my side,” Illya said.

“No, it’s not,” Gaby said.

“Yes, it is,” Illya said and frowned. “Give it here.”

“No,” Gaby hissed between her teeth.

Illya tried to take the bauble from Gaby, who accidentally dropped it. The ball rolled towards the couch and Gaby rushed to catch it. Illya tried to take hold of her waist, but just missed and grabbed her thigh instead. Gaby bent herself towards the bauble and tried to get a grip on the carpet while Illya was pulling her back with her leg.

“Let go of me,” Gaby ordered and shook her leg to get it free.

“It was on my side,” Illya insisted.

Gaby’s fingertips brushed the gold ornament. Illya’s grip slipped and she accidentally pushed the bauble farther. Gaby fell on the floor and Illya pulled her towards him. He put his knee on the floor to get a better grip, but Gaby shoved him with her other leg and he lost his balance. Gaby turned around to push Illya away, so he wouldn’t reach the bauble. It rolled under the couch and Illya collapsed on top of Gaby. She stared at him, out of breath. If the ownership of the gold bauble wasn’t extremely important at the moment, the situation would have probably led to something completely different. They were lying on the floor, a little out of breath, legs wrapped together, and the hand Gaby was using to push Illya away was still on his neck.

“Is it under the couch?” Illya asked.

Gaby turned her cheek against the carpet to see under the couch. “No,” she sighed. “It rolled to the other side.”

They both started getting up at the same time, trying to shove the other away. Illya ran around the couch, Gaby just climbed over it. The bauble was at the kitchen door. They knocked down two of the chairs around the table when they plunged to get the ornament. They slid under the table. Gaby tried to climb over Illya’s back to reach the bauble, but he pushed her down. Gaby rolled on the floor and the chairs scraped against the floor when she pushed them away. Illya grabbed the bauble and rolled over onto his back.

“It is mine,” he said.

Gaby climbed on top of him and tried to take the bauble, but Illya was keeping it so far that she couldn’t reach it. Finally she gave up and just leaned her hands against Illya’s chest. “Just keep it,” she huffed and straightened her back quickly. She hit her head so hard at the table that she was sure her skull cracked. 

“Are you okay?” Illya gasped and pressed his hand against back of Gaby’s head, so she wouldn’t hit it again.

“Scheiße,” Gaby cursed. She rolled off Illya and on the floor and pressed her own hand on the back of her head. Illya turned a little and pulled her closer, so that she could rest her head against his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Illya asked again.

“Yes,” Gaby muttered and leaned against Illya. “That hurts. I forgot that we were under the table.”

Illya smiled just a little and kissed Gaby’s forehead. “Understandable.”

Gaby looked at Illya. “It went a little too far, didn’t it?”

“Yes,” Illya agreed. He handed the gold ornament to Gaby. “You can have it.”

Gaby shook her head. “No, you won it. Even before my injury.”

”Fine,” Illya said. ”I say we take a break from decorating and get you something cold for your head.” Illya crawled up and helped Gaby behind him. He put her on the couch, then fetched some frozen peas for her head. Gaby lifted her legs on the couch and Illya pulled them on his lap.

“Are you going to read Anna Karenina for me now?” Gaby asked.

“Do you want to?” Illya asked.

Gaby nodded.


	15. Baby it´s cold outside

Gaby pushed the blanket away and was already getting up, when the cold air hit her skin and she slipped back under the covers. “Cold,” she sighed.

Illya got up and stopped in the middle of the room. “Have you adjusted the radiators?” he asked.

“No,” Gaby said.

Illya went to touch the nearest one. ”I think these are broken.”

Gaby pulled the blanket over her head. Of course the radiators were broken. December was just the right time for that. “Come back to bed,” Gaby asked.

“What?” Illya asked and lifted the blanket.

“Don’t let the cold air in here,” Gaby gasped. “Come warm me up.”

Illya smiled to Gaby, but returned to bed. It was still early and they didn’t have to rush. Illya pulled Gaby against his chest and kissed her forehead. Gaby closed her eyes and wrapped her hands against his back. He was warm. They wouldn’t need radiators. Even the electric bill would be smaller.

“Does your head still hurt?” Illya asked and gently stroked the back of her head where she had hit it against the table the evening before.

“No,” Gaby muttered.

Illya placed his hand under Gaby’s pajama shirt and let it slide up, until his whole arm was against Gaby’s back and his fingertips were tickling her neck. His other hand slid down on Gaby’s hip. She made a cute little hum.

Gaby lifted her head and kissed Illya’s neck. Her heart pounded a little faster and she let her fingers dance on his back. She pulled herself up a little so she could reach to kiss Illya on the lips. She held her breath when he bit her bottom lip gently. Illya guided her leg slowly over his hip and then slid his hand in the other side of her pajama shirt, softly over her stomach and breasts. Gaby sighed and her skin rose in goosebumps in the best kind of way. Illya kissed her jawbone and neck and felt her heartbeat against his mouth.  
Slowly Illya pulled her hand away and started opening her buttons. After every button he kissed the skin that was revealing. She felt like the kisses were branding her skin.

When he had pulled the shirt slowly off Gaby, he started to remove her bottoms. Gaby moved her hips to help. After that Gaby helped Illya take off his clothes. She rolled over him and presses her chest against his. Illya covered Gaby’s back with his arms while they kissed. He pressed his palms on her shoulder blades and Gaby felt like she had wings. Illya’s kisses were warm and soft. Gaby moved her hips and teased him. And he let her, which meant that he liked it. Gaby knew by Illya’s kisses how long he was going to let her tease him. When the kisses turned hungrier and harder he wasn’t going to let her do what she liked for long.

Illya took hold of Gaby’s hip and turned them easily around. The blanket waved and cold air flowed under it. Gaby yanked the blanket quickly back into place. Usually there was no need for that--Gaby really didn’t need to be covered-- but now it was too chilly. Illya helped with the blanket and momentarily the mood shifted from aroused to somewhat annoyed.

“Are you ready?” Illya asked.

“That’s so romantic,” Gaby sighed. “Would you like me to check?”

“I meant…” Illya shook his head and almost laughed. ”I didn’t mean that. I meant that is the blanket now in order?”

Gaby smiled. ”I know what you meant. Yes, the blanket is in order. And also, I am ready.” Gaby gave him a little grin.

Illya let some of his bodyweight press on Gaby and kissed her again. Gaby’s arms wrapped around him and her hands slid softly on his back, shoulders, neck and tangled in his hair. He felt like Gaby had more hands than normally, but every touch felt good nonetheless. Her hands finally set on his lower back when he lifted Gaby’s other thigh against his hip.

Every time Gaby knew what was going to happen when Illya made his first thrust. She knew and still she couldn’t stop it. Her body reacted like she had never done it before. Her head bent back and she couldn’t stop the moan escaping her lips. Her whole body twitched little, her fingers clenched into fists regardless whether she was touching something or not. And her stomach make that same flip that it made when she drove fast over a bump and all four wheels lifted from the road. And for a girl who liked to drive fast, it was lot to say, that this felt better. So much better. Her breath vibrated and for a moment Illya looked at her with that look of his that make her knees weak.

Finally the temperature under the blanket started to be a little much. Illya pressed Gaby tightly against the bed. Gaby could only pant brokenly. Her legs trembled and her hips were throbbing. She was close and she knew Illya was. He pressed his forehead against Gaby’s shoulder. He had lost his English and muttered Russian in her ear. Gaby could feel his low voice in her stomach. She pressed her fingers on Illya’s back when she came and the wave of red and black crashed over her and all her nerve ends twitched at the same time. Her head bent against his neck and her broken moan made Illya squeeze bruises on her thigh. His last movements were so hard that Gaby left a row of little half-moons on his back from her nails.

Illya moved little aside so his bodyweight was only half on Gaby. She didn’t want him going any farther. She wanted to feel his chest moving against her when he breathed. Gaby let her breathing steady. She moved her fingers lazily on Illya’s side. His skin was warm. None of what they had done helped in getting up. Only after both were breathing normally again and heartbeats had settled, Illya spoke.

“We have to get up now or we are going to be late,” he said and yet did nothing to get up. His hand just drew little circles on Gaby’s stomach.

Gaby rubbed Illya’s neck with her nose. “I can write a note for you,” she said. “Agent Kuryakin was late because Agent Teller didn’t let him leave the extraction point.”

“Agent Teller was late because Agent Kuryakin wanted to go through the operation again,” Illya muttered in Gaby’s ear and brushed her inside thigh softly with his fingertips.

“Agent Kuryakin was late because Agent Teller needed to give an oral report,” Gaby whispered.

“I feel that Waverly would not appreciate any of those notes,” Illya suspected and kissed Gaby’s shoulder.

“So…” Gaby pondered. “The alarm didn’t go off?”

Illya leaned closer to kiss Gaby’s neck gently. She bent it so he could reach better. “It must be American made,” Illya muttered against Gaby’s skin and pulled her closer.


	16. Diamonds and pearls

Napoleon saw Illya coming through the door. He looked his watch, then the clock on the wall and then Illya.

“You are twenty-tree minutes late,” Napoleon informed him. “For the second day in a row. Did the alarm clock misbehave again?” he asked with a grin on his face.

“Yes,” Illya said slowly. “It is broken.”

“Even you have to understand that I don’t believe you would be late once because of a broken clock, let alone twice. I don’t think you even need a clock to wake. I’m sure some brain twitch will wake you when the time is right,” Napoleon said. “And if there truly was broken clock, it wouldn’t have the chance to not work twice. After one time you would’ve trashed it. You wouldn’t give another chance.”

“Yes?” Illya sighed.

“Yes,” Napoleon nodded. “And you hate being late. So the reason for being late must be something more important than your hate of lateness. And there is only one reason that big.”

Illya tried not to even notice Cowboy; he just grabbed the newspaper.

“Did you come in the same car as Gaby?” Napoleon asked.

“Yes,” Illya said. ”She went to go to the garage.”

“When she comes, do you think she will blame the alarm too?” Napoleon asked.

“Probably, because that was the reason,” Illya said, and held on to his story.

Napoleon grinned. “I’m sure she will tell the truth if I asked.”

“Which is the alarm clock,” Illya insisted.

“I bet you ten pounds,” Napoleon said, “that she is free-spirited enough to say the real reason. Which we all know anyway.”

“Fine,” Illya said. He stood up and poured himself a coffee.

“So, have you already bought her a Christmas present?” Napoleon asked.

“No,” Illya replied.

”Do you need ideas?” Napoleon asked. ”I have plenty.”

“No, thank you,” Illya said. “I don’t have it yet, but I know what I am getting.”

“What?” Napoleon asked, and was actually interested. Knowing Illya, it was probably something expensive and elegant, but maybe something old worldly. Something that gentlemen would buy for his mistress. Some perfume or lace lingerie. Some whisper thin silk nightgown. Pearls or fur. Maybe some simple diamond jewelry she could wear when they went to eat at a restaurant. Maybe he would propose.

“A gun,” Illya said.

Napoleon’s face sank. ”A gun?” he repeated. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Illya assured him.

”I’m thinking of your best interest now, Peril,” Napoleon said. “You can’t buy her a gun. It’s not a suitable Christmas present for a lady. Why don’t you buy her something elegant and designer labeled?”

“I choose designer thing for her all the time,” Illya pointed out. “As do you. Why would I pick something that I pick all the time anyway?”

“Don’t you be disappointed when she likes my present more,” Napoleon said, a little smug.

“I thought your present was going to be not seducing Waverly’s secretary before Christmas and make things awkward?” Illya said.

“It is,” Napoleon assured him. “But I have bought her nice driving gloves too. Goat leather, red, she’ll love those. Just in case.”

Illya didn’t say anything, but he looked disapproving.

“Well, the agency’s Christmas party is coming,” Napoleon explained. “I like to keep my options open.”

Illya returned to reading his newspaper. Gaby came in and hung her bag on the chair’s armrest.

“Ah, Gaby,” Napoleon said and smiled. “Were you late this morning too?”

“A little,” Gaby said and shrugged her shoulders.

“Was there a problem?” Napoleon asked.

“No,” Gaby said and poured coffee to her cup.

“So why were you late?” Napoleon pressed. “We are all adults here.”

“The alarm didn’t go off,“ she said, hesitating only little.

Napoleon huffed. Illya crossed his arms on his chest, tilted his head, and the expression on his face was as close to a grin as it could be without actually being a grin. Napoleon pulled some bills from his pocket and handed two five-pound notes to Illya. Illya handed the other note to Gaby.

“What is this?” Gaby asked taking the money.

“Your cut,” Illya said.

Gaby nodded approvingly even when she didn’t know why she was getting money.

Waverly stepped in the room. “You are all here; excellent. Is the McKinty case still stuck in downstairs?”

Napoleon nodded. ”We can’t do anything before they finish.”

“Right. Now, there is the annual navy´s shooting competition coming and they let me bring my own team there,” Waverly said. “How are your rifle skills? I know Kuryakin is highly trained, so I’m not worried about that. Solo? You can hold you own, right?”

“I’m sure I can, sir,” Napoleon said.

“Gaby? Have you ever –“

“I know how to use rifle, sir,” Gaby assured.

“I didn’t know you have had training,” Waverly said. “Who ordered that?”

“Well,” Gaby sighed and crossed her arms, “it wasn’t exactly a training situation.”

“I think they prefer the term ‘date night’,” Napoleon smirked.

Gaby huffed but didn’t deny anything. “But I have shot with one.”

“Excellent,” Waverly said and opened the door. “I will brief you tomorrow. And you two,” he said and pointed Gaby and Illya. “A new alarm clock would be in order.”

Illya cleared his throat and Gaby looked at her shoes.


	17. Water is for winners

Napoleon pushed Gaby off himself. She fell in the floor and started slowly crawling up.

“The competition itself isn’t anything unusual. It’s just shooting. Different targets, guns, and distance,” Waverly explained. He was sitting a few seats away from Illya, at the training room’s bench row.

“You need to be quicker,” Napoleon said when Gaby got up.

“I know,” Gaby panted.

Napoleon nodded and gave her a grin. “Are you ready to show what you’ve got?”

Gaby took few steps and jumped against Napoleon. She tossed her leg over his shoulder, but before she got any further, Napoleon had his hand under her thigh. He just pushed her leg away and Gaby crashed to the floor. She rolled on her back and panted. She just wanted to lie there for a while.

”Get up,” Illya ordered. ”Are all the other teams from navy?” he asked and watched Gaby get up from the floor.

“Yes,” Waverly said. “They are making an exception for this year. So it’s probable that we are not invited back. And just saying that, I would like to say, that is very important that you win.”

“They are all in the navy,” Napoleon said little out of breath. “They must compete with each other all the time. We don’t really do that.”

“Right,” Waverly sighed and didn’t know if he was being serious. If they weren’t making bets on everything, they were bickering about who was better at something. There was always some competition going on.

Gaby straightened her back and made a few jumps to get her body back in ready to fight.

“Show your best,” Napoleon smirked and Gaby ran towards him. Everything worked until the point she needed to twist her body and lock his head behind her knee. She didn’t get to that before Napoleon had thrown her back to the floor.

“So if we are not invited back, we need to win. And if you can’t win, just make sure that they remember that you were there,” Waverly advised. “But don’t overdo it. Don’t shoot anybody. And you should prepare that they don’t usually use traditional targets in Christmas time.”

”What then?” Illya asked.

”Well, pig carcasses are always very popular,” Waverly said.

“What?” Gaby sighed when she stood up. ”Did you say pig carcasses?”

Napoleon and Illya both looked at Waverly.

”Yes. Yes, I did,” Waverly confirmed.

“That’s disgusting,” Gaby huffed.

“Les talk and more action, Teller,” Illya said firmly. “Concentrate what you are doing or you will lose again.”

Gaby glared at Illya and took a deep breath. She swept her bangs off her sweaty forehead.

Waverly liked to watch his team training. He found it impressive how well they played and manipulated each other. They all knew it and still they let it happen. Waverly was sure that Gaby knew that Kuryakin was being rude and firm with her just to get her worked up. She knew and still it somehow worked. 

“Let me have it,” Napoleon said again.

Gaby attacked. She jumped, got her leg up and pulled herself close to her thigh. Her leg got a grip. But Napoleon still managed to get his hand between himself and Gaby’s leg. And even though she made him bend forward, Napoleon pushed her to the floor. Gaby crawled slowly back up.

”I’m going to get some water,” Gaby panted. She went to the benches and leaned to take her water bottle. Illya grabbed the bottle before her and made her frown. ”Would you give it to me?” she asked.

Illya shook his head.

“Just give it,” Gaby said.

“If you were in the field, would there be water breaks?” Illya asked.

Gaby huffed. ”Well, we aren’t.”

“You are having already a break,” Illya pointed out. “Water you can have when you finish.”

“Are you seriously denying water from me?” Gaby asked angrily.

“Yes,” Illya said. ”You can have it when you deserve it.”

Gaby gritted her teeth.

”Are you coming?” Napoleon asked. ”Show me what you got.” 

”Cowboy doesn’t believe you can do it,” Illya said. “He’s inviting you to attack him because he doesn’t believe in you. He’s mocking you.”

Gaby’s breathing was fast and shallow. Her mouth pressed in a tight line.

“You need to get closer to him,” Illya advised, “and be faster. And when you get him down, you will grab his arm and bend it until he yields.”

“We didn’t agree to anything like that,” Gaby said. “I’m just supposed to take him down.”

Illya shrugged his shoulders and drank Gaby’s water while she watched. Her fingers clenched into tight little fists. “You can of course just take him down, if that is what you want. Or capable of. Or then you can win.”

Gaby moved her tongue in her dry mouth.

“Do you want to win?” Illya asked.

“Yes,” Gaby said.

“It doesn’t look like that,” Illya pointed out. “You are struggling. You are sloppy. In the field you would already be dead.”

”Just give me my water,” Gaby hissed.

Waverly watched, interested in how far Kuryakin would go. He wanted to see could he actually control his game or would he go too far and just make Gaby turn against him, instead of increasing her willingness to fight.

“Water is for winners,” Illya said bluntly. “And all you have done is lose.”

Gaby gritted her teeth and breathed faster. She glared at Illya and exuded barely held anger and frustration.

Illya looked his watch. “We don’t have all day,” he huffed. “So go there to win or at least lose faster.”

“Fick dich, Kuryakin,” Gaby grunted and turned around. She couldn’t believe that Illya had denied her water.

“Are you ready?” Napoleon asked and grinned almost politely. “Show me what you got.”

Gaby frowned. He was mocking her. He didn’t believe she could take him down. Instead of running, Gaby walked slowly to Napoleon and lifted her fists up. She would show him. She would win. And she would get her water back.

“Is this how we do this?” Napoleon asked. “As you wish.”

Gaby hit and Napoleon blocked it. She distracted him with her right hand and hit with her left on his ribcage. It distracted Napoleon and Gaby kicked his hip with her knee. And when Napoleon twisted himself to cover a new kick, Gaby jumped. She pressed herself against her thigh even before she got her leg over Napoleon’s shoulder. Then she used her whole bodyweight as leverage and crashed both of them to the floor. Gaby grabbed Napoleon’s arm and bend it against her knee.

“What you are doing?” Napoleon grunted. He couldn’t get off of her grip so he didn’t have any other choice than tap the floor.

Gaby let go of his hand and relaxed her leg which was wrapped on Napoleon’s neck. She rolled on the floor.

“You weren’t supposed to do that,” Napoleon said annoyed.

Gaby crawled up. “I won,” she panted. ”And you lost. Just accept that.”

“You didn’t play fair,” Napoleon pointed out.

“It’s good practice,” Gaby huffed and pointed to Waverly. “He just ordered us to fight unfair.”

Illya walked to them. “Nice job,” he said almost gently.

”Just give me the water or I´ll stab you into face,” Gaby grunted and grabbed the bottle from Illya’s hand.

Waverly nodded. “Well played, Kuryakin. For a moment there I thought you lost her.”

“I didn’t play anything,” Illya evaded.

“You played me like one of your chess pawns,” Gaby huffed. “So checkmate, Kuryakin. I won.” Gaby walked backwards away from the men. ”I got my water, I have no use for any of you anymore,” she announced, turned around and stormed out of the training room.

“Is she always like that when you work her up to win?” Waverly asked.

“Yes,” Illya nodded. “It lasts about thirty minutes.”

“You really don’t want to give her anything sharp before it wears off,” Napoleon advised.


	18. Fruit cake

Illya closed the door behind him. He hung up his coat and threw his cap on the shelf. The apartment was after few days warm again; the air smelled sweet, like someone was baking. Frank Sinatra was on again and he could hear talking from the kitchen. Illya felt that weird warm feeling which he sometimes felt after entering the apartment. He went to the kitchen. Gaby was sitting on the kitchen counter and Cowboy behind the table. He was wearing his ridiculous cowboy apron.

“Come taste something disgusting,” Gaby ordered and smiled.

“Tempting,” Illya muttered. But went to Gaby and leaned on the counter right next to her. Gaby handed him a glass of dark liquid. He tasted it. It was sweet and sickly. He handed the glass back. ”What’s that? Is there chunks?”

“This is the sherry where the dried fruit were soaking,” Gaby told. “Sherry itself is bad, but this is just disgusting.”

Illya watch Gaby sip from her glass. Then he noticed that Cowboy had a glass as well. “Why are you drinking it?” he asked, frowning.

“It’s very Christmassy,” Napoleon explained. “Like liquid grandmother.”

Illya looked Gaby who nodded approvingly. She ate batter from a wooden spoon. Illya shook his head and leaned to peek in the oven. “Are you baking?”

“I am baking,” Gaby corrected. ”Fruit cake.”

“If you are baking, why he is the one wearing apron?” Illya asked.

”He is doing the heavy lifting,” Gaby explained. “But I am in charge of this operation.”

“What does that include?” Illya asked. ”Licking the spoons?”

“I’m managing everything,” Gaby told him proudly and lifted her chin. “I make the decisions, give directions, read the recipe,” she said and lifted the recipe book, “and yes, I also lick the spoons.”

The corners of Illya’s mouth twitched.

“I am here only to take orders,” Napoleon assured. “So really, it’s Gaby who is baking.”

“How’s the cake?” Gaby asked.

Napoleon sipped his fruit sherry, stood up and went to the oven.

Illya took advantage of Napoleon’s turned back. He leaned closer to Gaby, pulled her face to him and kissed her. His palm pressed on her neck and his fingers slid in to her hair. Illya felt Gaby’s smile against the kiss. She tasted sweet and spicy: cake batter and sherry. The oven door closed and Illya pulled away. Gaby licked her lips and tried not to smile.

Illya liked to keep his relationship with Gaby just between them two. They were not sharing it at work, only Waverly and Cowboy knew about it, and Illya liked to keep it like that. It really wasn’t anybody else’s business. It was easier to be open with her when the people around them were strangers. So he didn’t have a problem with kissing her at the ballet. Or wrapping his arm on her shoulders when they ate at the pub. But in the small kitchen he wasn’t comfortable kissing her in front of Cowboy, even if he knew. Or like Solo liked to point out: knew before they did.

”Not yet,” Napoleon said and sat down. He didn’t make any joke about that Illya had kissed Gaby as soon as he had turned his back. If they had done that at work, he would’ve. But they were at home, and even Napoleon felt like they should be able to do whatever they liked there without anybody pointing that out. So he held his grin. He was sure that there were plenty of opportunities to joke later. “I’m going to wear a grey suit at the Christmas party,” he said instead. “So you can’t put on anything grey. Otherwise we just look like we were trying to dress to match, and that would be just embarrassing.”

“Who would think that?” Gaby asked, wondering.

Napoleon shrugged his shoulders. ”Anybody really. We shouldn’t risk it.”

“My dress is black and white,” Gaby said. ”Can I wear that?” she asked, sipped her fruit sherry, and shivered a little.

“Yes,” Napoleon promised. “How does it look otherwise?”

“Short,” Illya said, and sounded like he thought it was too short.

“It’s not that short,” Gaby said.

“Everybody can see your underwear if you bend down,” Illya pointed out.

"Well, I don’t bend down then,” Gaby said as a solution.

“What if you drop something?” Illya asked.

Gaby glanced at him. She knew he was just making fun of her. “I will ask somebody else to pick that up.”

“What if there is nobody there?” Illya continued.

“If there’s nobody to pick something that I dropped then there’s nobody there to see my underwear,” Gaby pointed out.

“There is an obvious solution here,” Napoleon said. “Just don’t wear underwear.”

Illya looked at Gaby and shook his head.

“Are you mentally prepared?” Napoleon asked to Illya and sipped his disgusting drink.

“That people can see her underwear?” Illya asked uncertainly.

“That too,” Napoleon nodded. ”But the party in general. People, music, drinks,” Napoleon listed. “People are drinking and patting each other’s backs. You may have to talk to somebody.”

“I can manage,” Illya said and crossed his arms.

“You know, I believe that,” Napoleon said. They wouldn’t see him dancing or kissing Gaby under the mistletoe, but he was sure that Illya wouldn’t hate everything. He even might enjoy it. Napoleon stood up and went to take the cake out of the oven.

Gaby jumped down from the counter and wanted to see her cake.

Illya took Gaby’s glass and sipped the sickly drink. He watched Gaby waving her wooden spoon. Napoleon pushed her hand slowly away from his shirt. Illya sipped the drink again. He frowned and pushed the glass away. Why was he drinking this? He knew why Gaby and Cowboy were drinking it. To them it was fun. But he really didn’t see the fun of drinking something disgusting just because. He really should turn the music off and order Cowboy to take his ridiculous apron off. That was what he would have done a few years ago. But now he didn’t do that. He didn’t want to.

”Did you eat already?” he asked instead.

”Just sherry-soaked raisins,” Gaby said.

“We should go somewhere to eat,” Illya suggested.

Napoleon turned slowly toward him and then back to Gaby. “Did he just ask us out to dine with him?”

Gaby bit her lips so she didn’t laugh.

“Forget about it,” Illya huffed and rolled his eyes. He pushed himself off the counter and walked out of the kitchen.

Napoleon pointed after him. ”Was that a Christmas miracle?”


	19. Bullshit

Petty Officer Billings, or like Gaby called him, Billy, because to her he looked like Billy, was aiming the swinging pig carcass. His upper lip was sweating and he felt his superiors watching further. He aimed and tried to concentrate to that.

“Your shoulders look tight,” Gaby pointed out. “You should relax.”

Billy took a deep breath.

“Your first hit wasn’t that good,” Gaby continued. “Is it because your trainers are inadequate, or are you just bad?”

Billy swiped his lip with his sleeve.

“If it is your trainers, you should just get a new one,” Gaby suggested. “Change them to somebody better. I can recommend a few.”

Billy fired and hit just the side of the pig.

“Are you even trying?” Gaby asked. ”Or did you just wake up this morning and decided to come here to lose?” She looked her watch. “We don’t have all day; could you just lose faster?”

“Just let him shoot in peace,” Ensign Roberts said behind Gaby’s back. Gaby was calling him Bob.

Gaby turned around and raised her brows. “Are you saying that navy trains you to shoot in complete silence?” Gaby asked frowning. Then she turned back to Billy. ”Do you think it’s quiet in the field? Let me tell you, it isn’t. And you still have to shoot. And you are really taking your time. In the field you were already dead. Somebody would have to call your mother and tell her that enemy blew you brain out because you hesitated.”

Billy shot his final bullet and didn’t hit the carcass at all. He pressed his face down for a while.

“That didn’t go very well, now did it?” Gaby huffed and crossed her arms.

“I’m going to report your behavior,” Bob said tightly.

“I don’t really doubt you,” Gaby said bored and glance at him. “You look exactly like the sort of man who would run to tell when the girls were teasing you.”

Bob’s hands pressed into fists.

***

“He looks really angry,” Napoleon said. “I bet she’s been just mean to that twelve-year-old looking. She’s been talking him like you talk her in training.”

“I am not mean,” Illya corrected. “I just… motivate her.”

“Well, that kid isn’t taking her motivation nearly as good as Gaby takes yours,” Napoleon said. “He barely hit twice.”

“That angry one she has punched right under the belt,” Illya suspected. ”She’s talking about women.”

“Remember when that medic was treating her like a five-year-old and would talk only to us? And when he finally asked her to tell is she hurt somewhere, Gaby said that she will tell him as soon as he tells about the first time he disappointed women in bed,” Napoleon chuckled.

Illya nodded and smiled.

“I was sure that he was going to hit her,” Napoleon shook his head cheerfully.

***

Billy stood up and Bob went to the rifle. Somebody pushed the carcass moving again.

“Have you always hated women?” Gaby asked lightly, as she would’ve asked about the weather. “You seem to be hostile towards me. Is this a new thing or has it continued for long?”

Bob was gritting his teeth, but didn’t stop aiming.

“Would you tell me the first time you disappointed women in bed?” Gaby asked. “And I don’t mean the latest time. I mean the first.”

”Do you think you are funny?” Bob grunted.

”No,” Gaby said. ”I’m not trying to be funny. I’m trying to get under your skin and annoy you. And I got news for you: it’s working.”

Bob took his first shot.

“Is it because of your mother?” Gaby asked and tilted her head. “Didn’t she hug you enough?”

Bob shot again, and only scratched the carcass.

“I feel like that answered for you,” Gaby sighed. “You should really talk somebody about this. You want to work this problem now. It’s too late when ten years from now you are beating prostitutes in some shady hotel because that’s the only way you can get it up anymore.”

Bob didn’t hit at all on his final shot. He stood up with his whole face red.

“You weren’t that good,” Gaby said and crossed her arms. “Did you notice?”

“If we weren’t here, do you know what I would do?” Bob asked angrily.

Gaby shrugged her shoulders. “Cry a little?”

Bob just glared at her. Gaby walked past him to the rifle. Somebody pushed the carcass swinging again. Gaby checked did the rifle still have three bullets. She adjusted the scope few millimeters and aimed.

“How would you like if we talk the whole time?” Bob asked frustrated.

“Go ahead,” Gaby encouraged. ”Believe me, I am used to it. It’s rather homey.” She took a deep breath.

***

”She was rather good,” Napoleon nodded.

“Yes,” Illya said. “Still she mostly focused the talking.”

“Well, we had orders to be remembered,” Napoleon pointed out. “And I’m man enough to admit that she has been best of that today.”

Illya nodded.

“But I feel like we can take some credit,” Napoleon said. ”She wouldn’t be that good without us.”

“Are you talking about her shooting or her ability to tolerate and talk bullshit?” Illya asked.

“Both,” Napoleon said and grinned.


	20. Bruise

Gaby examined the corner of her right eye at the bathroom mirror. It was only slightly darker than the left corner. Ensign Bob hadn’t hit properly because she had managed to turn her head. In hindsight she felt like she may have thought a little harder about what she was saying. But Gaby couldn’t do anything anymore. The words were said and the punch was given. She was happy to not get a bigger bruise. It was nicer to go the party when she hadn’t had a black eye. Gaby turned the lights off and went to the bedroom.

“I still can’t believe that he actually hit me,” Gaby said when she was climbing on the bed. She sat on the blanket.

“Can’t you really?” Illya asked and set his book in his lap.

“Why didn’t you do anything?” Gaby asked. 

“Why you just didn’t stop talking?” Illya asked. “And I wasn’t there.”

“Are you saying that I deserved this?” Gaby asked, frowning.

”No,” Illya assured her. “Of course not. I am saying that you knew it was coming.”

Gaby shrugged her shoulders. “I still can’t believe that he hit me. I was expecting shove, maybe a slap. But not a fist.”

“He has to solve it with his superiors,” Illya said and picked his book.

“I still feel quite nice,” Gaby confessed. “I somehow feel like I have saved lives.”

“How?” Illya wondered.

“I don’t know,” Gaby sighed. ”That’s just how I feel. I also feel like we won.”

“We didn’t,” Illya reminded her.

“I feel like we were the spiritual winners,” Gaby said, smiling.

“It’s not same,” Illya huffed. He would’ve wanted to be a real winner.

“Grumpy,” Gaby said gently and poked his arm with her finger.

“You are blocking the light,” Illya said.

Gaby straightened her back and leaned in front of the light. “Am I still blocking it?”

“Yes,” Illya answered.

“What about now?” Gaby asked and twisted her so she would cover as much light as possible.

Illya huffed and yanked Gaby to her back on the bed. She laughed a little and turned sideways, so she could lean her head on Illya’s side. She watched him as he read.

“When I sometimes have bruises and we go somewhere, do you think people think that you made those bruises?” Gaby asked.

“Yes,” Illya said frowning. ”It is logical. That is what I would think.”

“Does it bother you?” Gaby asked.

“Yes,” Illya confessed.

“Why? You know you didn’t do those,” Gaby pointed out.

Illya lowered his book and watched Gaby. She leaned her head on side. Her hair was spread on his stomach and tickled a little. ”I feel like I did. I wasn’t there to protect you when somebody else hurt you. So it was my fault.”

“Do feel responsibility for this?” Gaby asked and pointed to the corner of her eye.

Illya smiled a little. “No. I can protect you from others, not from yourself.”

Gaby rubbed her cheek on Illya’s skin. She pulled her leg closer to warmth. She watched Illya’s face as he read. His eyes moved along the lines. He had a little wrinkle between his brows like always when he concentrated. He glanced at her quickly, but didn’t tell her to stop staring.

“If you would’ve been there, would you have hit him?” Gaby asked.

“Yes,” Illya said.

“Even when I was provoking him?” Gaby made sure.

“He should have not let you,” Illya said.

“Are you really the right person to say that?” Gaby teased and Illya glance at her behind his book. Gaby rose on all fours and climbed to sit on Illya’s lap. She took hold of his book, yanked it to herself and threw it on the floor.

“I was reading that,” Illya huffed and his jaw tightened.

“You looked like you wanted to stop,” Gaby said. “Probably because you wanted to do something else.”

“Really?” Illya asked and the corners of his mouth twitched.

Gaby nodded and leaned to kiss him. “Do you think they will fire him?” Gaby asked when she pulled away from Illya.

”Do we have to talk about that man?” Illya frowned. “I thought you wanted to do something else.”

“You wanted,” Gaby reminded. “You looked like it.”

“Less talking and more kissing, Teller,” Illya said firmly.

“You can’t do that in bed,” Gaby said. “You can’t train me here.”

“I can do what I want,” Illya assured. “Maybe you should just come here and prove you don’t need to be trained.”

Gaby tried not to smile.

“Right now you are not doing your best. If you were in the field you were already dead,” Illya said.

“Shut up, Kuryakin,” Gaby said and just about managed not to laugh.

“Make me,” Illya said and pulled Gaby to him. He rolled them over on the bed and made Gaby giggle.


	21. Christmas party

Illya leaned against the wall, holding a glass of scotch. Dusty Springfield started playing and he sipped his drink. Illya glanced at the dance floor, because he could almost feel what was going to happen. The corners of his mouth twitched.

“Kuryakin,” Waverly said and stopped next to him.

“Sir,” Illya said.

“Maybe we can leave the sir for tonight. It’s Alexander,” Waverly said.

Illya nodded. He didn’t say anything because he wasn’t going to call him Alexander.

“Are you here at your own free will or are you being blackmailed with something sensitive?” Waverly asked.

“Own free will,” Illya said. ”I was given a choice to say no.”

Waverly nodded. “It’s nice that you didn’t use it. Where are the rest of you team? You three don’t usually stray far from each other. You are like a pack of dogs.”

Illya frowned a little but pointed to the dance floor. “Making fools of themselves,” Illya said. Gaby and Cowboy were the only people dancing.

“They are just dancing,” Waverly said.

“It’s happening,” Illya assured. “I can feel it.”

On the dancefloor Gaby and Napoleon were dancing very traditionally. Gaby was standing out from the slightly conservative crowd with her sleeveless black and white mod-dress. Her high heels and earrings were silver. Napoleon in his grey suit made everybody else look a little frumpy.

Napoleon lifted Gaby off the floor. He spun her around and Gaby spread her arms to her sides and just flowed with the movement. When Napoleon set Gaby back on the floor, he bent her and grinned to Illya. Illya rolled his eyes. Of course Cowboy had to bend Gaby with her short dress. He watched as they were continuing their ridiculous dance movements.

Waverly nodded. “Nice guess. Or was it knowledge? Do they do this often?” he asked.

“From time to time,” Illya told him. “Even though is showier when they do that in fully packed nightclub.”

“Hard to imagine you at a nightclub,” Waverly confessed.

“They need sometimes supervision,” Illya said more bluntly than he meant to. He didn’t really mind. It was nice to have people in his life who wanted him to come along. “Last time he spun Gaby around in Madrid, she hit maybe twelve people. There was a small… fight after that.”

Waverly frowned. ”Madrid? Six months ago? I hope you are not doing this during operations?”

“No,” Illya said. “Sometimes the last night when everything is over. If there’s energy and not that many injuries.”

Waverly nodded approvingly. He didn’t mind if his team wanted to cause a little trouble in some nightclub, as long as it didn’t happen during the work. If you worked hard, you needed to play hard. He knew it. And a little fighting in nightclubs was better than opium.

A few older gentlemen came to speak to Waverly and Illya excused himself. He sat down at an empty table. Cowboy showed up and sat opposite him.

“Why do they keep playing Dusty Springfield?” Illya wondered. “This must be third song from her.”

“How do you know this is Dusty Springfield?” Napoleon asked. “No, let me rephrase that: How do you know Dusty Springfield even exists?”

Illya frowned and pointed to Gaby, who was talking to somebody by the drink table. “I thought that was obvious. She plays her all the time. Do you know how many time I have heard the song about Tulsa?” Illya asked. “I know the lyrics.”

“I feel like you also answered your own question,” Napoleon pointed out. ”Gaby,” Napoleon called her and Gaby walked to them. “Are you responsible for the music?”

Gaby nodded. ”I just asked them to play a few of her songs,” she said and smiled innocently.

“You asked or you threatened to stab somebody in the face if they didn’t play it?” Napoleon made sure.

“Does it matter?” Gaby asked and watched him back down. She turned to talk to somebody.

“Do you really know the lyrics?” Napoleon asked, interested.

Illya nodded as he sipped his scotch.

“Prove it,” Napoleon said.

Illya rolled his eyes. ”I had to write to say that I won't be home anymore. For something happened to me. As I was driving home. And I'm not the same anymore,” he said monotonously.

Napoleon laughed. ”You should do that in some open mike night,” he suggested. “Illya Kuryakin recites Dusty Springfield. I’m sure there’s an audience for that.”

“Illya Kuryakin recites what?” Gaby asked

“Do it again,” Napoleon said.

Illya huffed and crossed his arms. ”Oh, I was only twenty-four hours from Tulsa. Oh, only one day away from your arms. I saw the welcoming light. And stopped to rest for the night,” he spoke.

Gaby had to take hold of Illya’s shoulder because she was laughing so hard.

“We should sell tickets,” Napoleon said. “People would pay to see this.”

“I’m not doing it again,” Illya said.

Gaby sat down to laugh.

Napoleon spotted Waverly’s secretary across the room. She was wearing again the skirt that covered her knees and her blouse was buttoned all the way up. She looked wholesome and virtuous. “I have to go,” Napoleon said and left.

Gaby glanced after him and took a deep breath when her laughter finally stopped. “He promised not to seduce her.”

“He likes to keep his options open. Apparently,” Illya said. ”You do know that everybody was watching you two dancing and talking about it.”

“I’m sure it was because of our outstanding dance moves,” Gaby said cheerfully. “We were really giving it all. Did you see us?”

Illya nodded. “They probably assume you two are… together,” he said somewhat annoyed.

“Probably,” Gaby nodded. “I’m sure you have heard all the rumors.”

“What rumors? Illya asked frowning.

“About us,” Gaby said, “and our relationships. There’s of course a rumor that Napoleon, being a womanizer, is sleeping with me. Or at least he has at one point. Some are convinced that we are having an affair,” Gaby told and smiled gently. “I’m not sure if people are really thinking that you and Napoleon are together or is that just a joke.” Illya’s jaw tightened. “But some people are sure that we are… this thing is… some sort of… ménage à trois.”

Illya took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “Ménage à trois,” he repeated tightly.

“By your tone and face, I can see you know what that is,” Gaby said and tried not to smile. “That is what some think, yes. Do you mind if people speak?”

Illya sipped his scotch and didn’t say anything. The truth was that he did mind. Not the weird rumors, but that people would think Gaby was with Napoleon. And it was believable. They had been dancing and touching. Illya glanced quickly to Gaby. He would have wanted to be somebody who would take his woman to dance.

Gaby tilted her head and smiled. “I need to do something in an office down there,” Gaby said. “Come with me, I need help.” Gaby stood up and walked towards the corridor. She glanced at him over her shoulder and grinned mischievously. She didn’t need help with anything.

Illya stood up and followed her. He watched behind him before turning in the corridor. Gaby was walking ahead of him. She was walking deliberately slowly and reeling him in. Her heels tapped against the linoleum and her dress was very short. And right now Illya didn’t mind. She stopped and opened a random office door. She watched him as she walked in. Illya looked behind him again and followed Gaby into the office.

Gaby leaned against the desk and looked him straight in the eyes. Street lamps made the room dimly orange. Illya closed the door behind him and opened his jacket buttons. He walked to Gaby and placed his hand on her neck. He let the hand slide to her head and leaned to kiss her. Gaby pushed herself off the desk and wrapped her hands on his neck. Gaby pushed Illya slowly but surely towards the low couch until he had no other choice than to sit down.

Gaby sat on his lap and Illya pulled her tightly against him. Gaby’s kisses were playful and sweet. She was teasing him with her tongue and pushed her hands under his jacket. Illya placed his hands on her thighs and let them slide slowly under her dress and on her bottom.

“How would you explain your hand under my dress if somebody was to come in?” Gaby muttered between kisses.

“I don’t,” Illya said. ”I would just shoot them.”

Gaby laughed and pulled away. She felt him under his jacket. “You don’t have a gun,” she pointed out.

“I would hit with something,” Illya said. “Or you could threaten them. You are very good at it.”

“Really?” Gaby asked and tried not to smile. ”Do you like it when I threaten people?”

“What’s not to like,” Illya said. “Who wouldn’t like when beautiful woman threatens to stab somebody’s face?”

Gaby held her laugh. “What else do you like?”

“Right now?” Illya asked.

Gaby nodded and tickled his neck with her fingertips.

“Your dress,” Illya said.

“I thought it was too short,” Gaby reminded.

“It is,” Illya said and smiled. “But now it doesn’t matter.” He squeezed Gaby’s bottom and pulled her closer.

Gaby made a sharp gasp and bit her lip. She heard a new song starting and smiled. Illya pressed his lips tight together so that he didn’t smile. Gaby moved her shoulder little along the rhythm. ”Dearest, darling,” she sang quietly along.

“It annoys me when I don’t know where she is,” Illya said. “She is twenty-four hours from Tulsa, but where?”

Gaby laughed and then kissed him. She pushed her fingers into his hair and sighed against his lips when his arms whapped on her back. Gaby just gave herself to the moment and let it go where it wanted to, she was just riding along. It took her kissing somewhere outside of the party, in a dim orange room, soft rhythms in the background. She was feeling almost ridiculously light and easy. She pressed Illya against the couch’s back. Gaby hoped that for now on “Twenty-four Hours from Tulsa” would always remind her about this moment: happy, orange, stolen moment away from everybody, and the playful and passionate kisses with Illya.

When they later returned to the party, Napoleon was grinning at them.

“I’m not even going to joke about this,” he said. “It is just too obvious what you have been doing. It’s just too easy. I will let you have this one,” he smirked.

Illya cleared his throat.

“You have even lipstick on your neck,” Napoleon said to Illya. “It’s that easy.”

Gaby smiled and wiped it away. “Where did you leave Ruth?” Gaby asked.

“Who is Ruth?” Illya asked and rubbed the place Gaby hade just wiped.

”Waverly’s secretary,” Gaby said.

”Isn’t it wholesome name?” Napoleon asked. ”Like somebody very capable, somebody who knows how to scrub the floors properly.”

Illya nodded because he felt like that was what Cowboy wanted.

“Well, anyway, she is talking to somebody else,” Napoleon sighed. “I don’t understand this. I was really trying.” He looked frustrated to Gaby. ”We should drink more. You are still standing on your heels. What kind of party this is if women can still keep on their heels?”

Gaby nodded. “I’m going to get the vodka, Illya brings the glasses and you,” Gaby pointed to Napoleon. ”You are going to pull you and your self-esteem together before drinking more, because otherwise this is just going to get sad.”

Napoleon frowned.


	22. Too much vodka

Gaby took hold of the door frame and frowned. She was wearing sunglasses.

”Good morning,” Illya said.

Gaby hummed and waved her hand vaguely. She sat slowly down. Illya stood up and poured orange juice for her and handed her two aspirin. Gaby turned her palm up for the pills. She drank them down with the juice and leaned against the table for a while.

Gaby moved her tongue carefully in her mouth and cleared her throat. “Morning,” she said slowly.

“How are you feeling?” Illya asked as he flipped throw the newspaper.

Gaby shrugged her shoulders. “Not that good,” she muttered. “But better than I thought.”

Illya nodded. He was maybe a little more tired than usual, but he was bigger than Gaby and probably had drunk less than Gaby.

“Did something special happen later in the evening?” Gaby asked and crossed her arms.

Illya smiled a little. “Trouble remembering?”

“Just little dark spots,” Gaby sighed. “Did Napoleon get Waverly’s secretary to go with him?”

“He was spending a lot of time trying to make that happen,” Illya told her. “I don’t think I have ever seen him working that hard with anything.”

“And?”

“She left without him,” Illya said.

Gaby made a little laugh. “Now that’s a Christmas miracle.” She drank her juice and Illya poured her more. “Did he leave alone? I doubt it?”

“He left with that brown haired girl that you know,” Illya said. ”Long hair.”

Gaby nodded approvingly. “That’s good. She wanted to go.”

”You were the one who suggested her to Cowboy,” Illya told. ”You said: take her.”

Gaby cleared her throat. “Well, I have been a good friend.”

Illya smiled to Gaby’s attitude. “They took their time before they left. I think it was solid five minutes.”

Gaby laughed and then rubbed her temples. “This all happened after the vodka, I assume? What else we do after that?” Gaby asked. There was a gap in her memory after the vodka shots.

“You and Cowboy were dancing for a while,” Illya told.

“Were we making fools of ourselves?” Gaby asked.

“Not more than usual,” Illya said. ”And everybody surrounding you was drunk, so nobody would even notice. We left little after Cowboy, about two AM.”

“How did we get here?” Gaby asked and made herself memories.

“With a cab,” Illya told.

“Did you carry me?” Gaby asked.

”You were awake,” Illya assured her, “and walking by yourself.”

“I walked to the cab?” Gaby asked.

“Yes.”

”And out of the cab?”

“Yes.”

“Up the stairs?”

“Yes.”

“With my heels on?”

“Yes.”

“Did I fall?”

“No.”

“Not even once?”

“No.”

“Are you sure it was me?” Gaby asked unsure and looked Illya over her sunglasses.

“Do you mean did I bring some other girl here and she magically turned in to you overnight?” Illya asked and lifted his brows.

“Yes,” Gaby nodded.

“No, it was you the whole time,” Illya assured.

Gaby huffed a little and pushed her glasses back on. “Have I not had fun then?” she asked. She thought she had.

“Yes, you had,” Illya said.

“How can you be sure?” Gaby asked and tilted her head.

“You kept smiling and you said that you were having fun,” Illya said. “And when I asked at the cab did you have fun, you said yes.”

Gaby nodded. “That seems like clear evidence.”

“Do you want to go to the pub to eat?” Illya asked. “You said yesterday that you want to go and order everything that is fried.”

“I feel like I made some very good choices yesterday,” Gaby announced and stood carefully up. “Yes, let’s go. I’m going to order so much soda and ask if they can fry everything in the menu that isn’t yet fried.”

“Are you going to change?” Illya asked.

Gaby looked slowly down at her pajamas. “Yes,” she sighed. “What did you think?” Then she walked towards the bedroom to find herself some clothes.

Illya folded the newspaper and drank the rest of Gaby’s juice.

Gaby reappeared. She had changed to brown trousers and was yanking a sweater over her head. She got stuck and stopped walking. Gaby waved her hand in the air and searched for the door frame she knew to be there. When she found it, she braced herself on it and pulled her head through the sweater.

“I’m ready,” Gaby said.

Illya watch her with his head tilted and his mouth twitching. “You do know that your pajama shirt is still under your sweater?”

“Yes,” Gaby sighed. “It’s called fashion,” she said and put the sunglasses back on. ”Look it up.” She turned around and went to put her shoes on. After getting outside she had to stop at the stairs. “How… why… it’s so… so bright,” she muttered and shaded her eyes and sunglasses with her hand. “I need to go back to get my sunglasses,” she said and returned to inside.

Illya leaned on the railing, shook his head and smiled that little smile of his. He watched Gaby return. “Did you find your sunglasses?” he asked and tried not to smile.

”Yes,” Gaby said shortly.

“Were they on your face?” Illya teased.

Gaby tried to look like she wasn’t embarrassed at all. ”It’s really bright in here. Anybody could have made that mistake.”

“Come,” Illya said and offered his hand. ”Come on.”

Gaby took his hand and let him pull her down the stairs. “I’m going to close my eyes. Please don’t let me hit anything.”


	23. Snow

Illya watched through the scope at the opposite building’s top floor apartment. His rifle was leaning against the rooftop ledge. He pulled his collar up. The night was cold, the wind sharp and his breath was steaming.

“Ready,” Illya said to his radio. “Smoke.”

At the rooftop of the opposite building Gaby took her hands from her pockets. She leaned down to grab a smoke grenade, pulled the pin off and threw it at the air duct. Then she picked up another and threw that too. She just lifted her thumb up as signal, because she knew Illya was watching her through his scope.

Illya turned his gun back to the apartment. After a while the smoke started to come through the air vent. Then the fire alarm started to make noise.

“Power,” Illya said to his radio.

At the basement Napoleon pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on. He turned on his flashlight and switched the power off for the whole building. Everything went dark and he put the gasmask on.

Illya switched the night vision scope on. The accountant who lived at the apartment left. Illya could hear people leaving the building and gathering outside.

“Clear,” Illya said.

Napoleon left the basement and climbed to the top floor. A few people ran past him, but nobody really took notice of him. He turned his flashlight on when he reached the right door and let himself easily in.

“I’m in,” he said to his radio.

“I have visual,” Illya said at the opposite rooftop.

Napoleon went to the little office room and lifted the big painting from the wall. He had always found it a bit boring that people were hiding their safes behind paintings. But the man was, after all, just an accountant.

He opened the safe without any problems, pulled out a pile of papers and folders and pushed those under his coat.

Gaby was shivering on her rooftop and jumping in place. She noticed something dropping on her sleeve and looked closer. It was a snowflake. Gaby turned her face toward the black sky and saw the snowflakes starting to fall. She had been waiting for this. She had been waiting for the snow. And now it was falling down, in big, perfect flakes. Gaby took her hands from her pockets and felt the snowflakes falling on her palms. They only brushed her before melting into little water drops. Gaby remembered how the snow had fallen in the streets of Berlin when she was little. How the white and thick blanket had covered the ruins. Snow had made everything beautiful, even war.

Illya frowned when he saw that the accountant returned to the apartment. “He’s back,” he said to the radio. “Be quiet.”

Napoleon moved behind the door waiting.

“He is blocking the door, so you can leave only through the window,” Illya said. “I can get you out. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Napoleon said as loud as he dared.

“Three shots,” Illya said. He aimed through the window. He didn’t aim at the man, but the couch. He fired. The window shattered and the accountant ran behind the couch to cover. Illya fired two shots more to the wall above the couch.

Napoleon ran across the apartment and out of the shattered window onto the fire escape. He yanked the gasmask off.

Illya fired two more times after Napoleon had exited the apartment. He managed to get only few stories lower when the accountant opened fire.

“He has weapon,” Illya said and ducked behind the ledge just before the bullets started to come. In fact he had an automatic rifle. He was maybe just an accountant, but he was accountant for the mob.

Napoleon pressed himself under a window ledge. He noticed the big snowflakes falling down. Snow always reminded him of Sarah Turner. She had worn a blue coat and her chestnut brown hair was in pigtails. Snow had fallen on her hair and Napoleon had fallen in love. He remembered how cold her lips were when he had stolen his first kiss. He sighed under the ledge. To be ten years old again.

Illya rolled onto his back on the roof. He squinted his eyes so that the snowflakes didn’t fall in. They melted on his cheeks and got caught on his eyelashes. He remembered his brother and how they had skied around the lake. They were competing and Sasha had let him win, because Illya had been two years younger. His cheeks had been so red and hot when they finally had returned inside.

Gaby took her gun and slowly moved to the rooftop’s ledge and looked down. He could see the gun in her hands. She reversed a few steps to speak to her radio. “I have visual,” she just said and returned to the ledge. She fired one time and the man disappeared.

Illya turned around on his rooftop and aimed. The man was crawling back up. He didn’t have the gun anymore and his hand was bleeding. Illya pulled the trigger and shot through his kneecap. The accountant cried and crashed to the floor.

“Clear,” Illya said to the radio.

“Did you kill him?” Napoleon asked and started climbed down.

“Just his kneecap,” Illya said. “Somebody can collect him from the hospital.”

“Feeling festive?” Napoleon smirked.

“It is snowing,” Illya said. ”It is making me nostalgic. I don’t feel like killing.”

“Now you must hear how soft you have become,” Napoleon said.

“You come here and shoot him if you want it so much,” Illya grunted to the radio.

“Hey,” Gaby grunted. “Nobody is shooting anybody anymore. Just go where you are supposed to and I’ll come to pick you up,” she ordered. “It’s snowing. Don’t spoil this.”


	24. Pints after dinner

There were only few people at the pub with them. Gaby’s legs were on the opposite bench and she leaned her elbow on the table. She was trying to solve the crossword puzzle. It really wasn’t going that well. She sipped her beer and glanced to Illya. He was leaning on the booth and flipping lazily through a days-old newspaper. He had taken his jacket off, but he still had his cap on.

Gaby reached to take the cap off his head and put in on her own. Illya glanced at her, but didn’t stop her. Gaby leaned her temple on her hand and stroked the scratchy hat with her fingertips. She couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t think Illya would really get mad about the cap in the New Year. But he would probably act like he was mad, because that was what he was supposed to be.

“What?” Illya asked without taking his eyes off the newspaper.

“I didn’t say anything,” Gaby said.

“You are staring and grinning,” Illya pointed out.

“It’s just a grin,” Gaby said.

“I don’t believe you,” Illya said, but his face was relaxed and soft.

Gaby shrugged her shoulders and returned to her crossword puzzle. She was just writing random letters on the little squares.

Illya sipped his beer and returned back to his paper. He turned the page and his face tightened. There was an apartment for rent. The more he looked at the list, the more it bothered him. He and Gaby hadn’t talked about their living arrangements after he had moved in temporarily with her three months ago. Only time since then they had even gone near the subject was at the woods when she had made a joke that they should move to Romania. But not one real conversation had happened. And every time Illya thought about it, it bothered him. He folded the newspaper and put it on the table. He decided to push the subject away from his mind too. If Gaby wanted him to leave, she wouldn’t bring it up at Christmas. And probably not even the New Year. He tried to forget about it.

He leaned to watch what Gaby was writing on the other part of the newspaper. Her hair tickled his cheek. Illya turned his head and inhaled her scent.

“Are you sniffing me?” Gaby asked and turned to Illya.

“Maybe,” Illya said, because he didn’t want to lie, but not admit it either.

Gaby smiled and pushed him gently with her shoulder. “You are weird.”

Illya didn’t say anything. He leaned back in the booth and sipped his beer. He slid his hand on Gaby’s lower back. She glanced at him quickly and smiled.

Illya liked the pub. It was cozy and people there didn’t bother each other. And now there were only a few people at the corner table. Illya assumed everybody was at home, celebrating Christmas. He didn’t mind being there. It was nice to sit with Gaby. Drink one beer and watch her scribble on the newspaper, wearing his cap. But he was already bothered because of the apartments and it made him worry about other things too.

“Do you mind being here?” Illya asked.

”No,” Gaby said. ”Why would I?”

“Because is Christmas Eve,” Illya said. “And we are at the pub. There’s quiet crackling music and three people besides us. And that includes the bartender.”

Gaby smiled and turned to Illya. “You are acting like we are celebrating Christmas here. We came to have pints after dinner.” Gaby sipped her beer and returned to messing with the paper.

Illya watched how her lower lip pulled little back when she concentrated. For some reason she looked especially pretty and innocent. And somehow Illya felt a little bad that she was with someone like him. She deserved something better. Someone who would kiss her even when Cowboy was around and asked her to dance at Christmas parties.

Gaby turned back to Illya and frowned. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

“I should have asked you to dance at the party,” Illya said. “I thought about it. But I didn’t do it.”

“It’s okay,” Gaby said gently and Illya knew she meant it. And that just made it worse.

“Still,” Illya said.

“I danced with Napoleon,” Gaby reminded. ”So you didn’t have to.”

“It doesn’t mean that I didn’t want to,” Illya said.

“I thought you didn’t like to dance,” Gaby pointed out. “Or didn’t know how. I still don’t know which it is.”

“Maybe I dance at Christmas,” Illya said quietly.

“Really?” Gaby laughed. She pointed to the jukebox in the corner. ”You go put on some music and ask me to dance. Then I’ll believe you.” She smiled and returned to scribbling in the newspaper.

Illya watch how she tilted her head when she drew. He drank the rest of his beer.

“Do you want another or should we leave?” Gaby asked without lifting her eyes off the paper.

Illya stood up and walked around the table.

Gaby lifted her head and watch after him. “Illya?”

Illya went to the jukebox in the corner. He took some coins from his pocket and pushed the buttons to go through the records. In the corner of his eye he could see Gaby watching him. Finally he dropped coins in and made his choice.

Gaby held her breath when she heard the coins dropping. “As Time Goes By” started playing and Illya walked back to her. And he offered his hand to her.

“Gabriella,” he said.

Gaby swallowed and was suddenly nervous. She took his hand and noticed that her hand was trembling. Illya walked her by the jukebox. She breathed louder when he placed his hand on her back and pulled her closer. Gaby noticed her own voice and felt a little like she was going to blush. For some reason it all felt very intimate. She slid her hand over his shoulder and pressed close. Gaby leaned her head on his chest and closed her eyes. She felt Illya’s cheek leaning on her head. Gaby would’ve been happy just by standing there, but they were actually dancing. Dancing in a small pub on Christmas Eve, just the two of them.


	25. Bullets in Christmas stocking

Illya emptied the whole stocking on the blanket. He frowned and picked up a coin. “Why there are coins?”

Gaby shrugged her shoulders. ”I don’t remember anymore. But Waverly told me something about coins and I do remember that I liked the idea. I just don’t remember what it was.”

Illya sipped his tea and smiled at Gaby. She was sitting on the blanket, her bare legs pressed against him. Illya was sliding his hand along them slowly, gentle strokes with his fingertips, little squeezes here and there. She was wearing only his sweater. She had rolled the sleeves up. It had been the closest piece of clothing Gaby had pulled from the floor when she had crawled up naked from the sheets, Illya’s kisses still on her skin, and went to make the tea. Illya didn’t have anything to complain about Christmas so far.

Gaby pulled a bullet from the stocking and it was her time to frown. “Have you put bullets in here?” she asked.

“Maybe,” Illya said and peeled a tangerine.

Gaby looked the bullet closer. “.22 caliber,” she said and thought about Illya’s guns and her own. “Do you have a gun to go with .22 caliber? I know I don’t.”

Illya shrugged his shoulders and gave half of the tangerine to Gaby.

“Why would you put bullets in there that don’t match our guns?” Gaby asked.

“You put coins,” Illya reminded her.

“Coins are different,” Gaby said and ate a piece of her tangerine. “You can always use coins.”

“You can always use bullets,” Illya said.

“Yes. If you have the right gun for it,” Gaby pointed out and laughed. “Which we don’t.”

”Just turn you back to this problem,” Illya suggested.

Gaby leaned in to kiss him. “You need to get up, because I need to give my present to you,” she said between kisses and then pulled Illya up. Gaby was going to the tree, but Illya nudged her to the couch and gave his gift first.

The package wasn’t very big, but it was heavier than it looked. Illya sat next to Gaby when she opened it. She ripped the paper away and finally her fingers touch something cold and hard. Gaby pulled out a silver gun with a mother of pearl handle. It was smaller than her work gun, and fit her hand better. She smiled.

“It´s .22 caliber isn’t?” she said.

Illya nodded.

”Walther PPK,” Gaby said. ”Now isn’t your Makarov kind of a copy of this?”

“Who said that?” Illya asked and crossed her arms.

“I don’t remember anymore,” Gaby said and smiled.

“It was Cowboy,” Illya huffed. “Was it?”

“Maybe,” Gaby confessed.

”Russians don’t need any help making their guns,” Illya assured. ”Makarov is completely different gun than Walther PPK.”

“Okay,” Gaby said and tried to not laugh. “I like it,” she said. “It’s small, it fits my hand. And it’s pretty; it looks like it should be kept under a garter.”

“I don’t think that would be too practical,” Illya said. “But probably it would look… adequate.”

“That is how you acted last time I wore a garter,” Gaby teased. “Like it was adequate.”

Illya cleared his throat. ”Well it’s small and pretty, like you. And it’s German, but after the war the factories moved to France, so it´s defector, just like you.”

Gaby smiled. “So it’s practically me. Only a gun.”

“Yes,” Illya said. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” Gaby nodded. She aimed at the Christmas tree and the ornaments and pulled the trigger so she could hear the clear ‘click’ it made. “Your turn,” she said and set the gun on the couch and fetched a box under the tree. It clattered faintly when she gave it to Illya. Gaby sat next to him and pulled the sweater over her knees.

Illya untied the bow on top of the box and opened the lid. He pushed the newspaper packing aside and grabbed the first thing his hand touched. It was him. It was the picture which was taken when he was eight and had frog on his hand. Illya looked in the box. It was all his pictures, all eleven. All framed. Even his father’s medals were framed.

”You framed them,” Illya said quietly.

“Yes,” Gaby said carefully. She wasn’t quite sure what Illya was thinking. “I thought that maybe you would like to hang those on the wall, instead of keeping them hiding in a box in a cupboard.”

Illya glanced quickly to Gaby.

“If you want,” Gaby said. “It’s your decision. I just thought that it would be nice if the pictures were ready when you are ready to hang them.”

Illya swallowed and thought about how he should say what he wanted to say. He looked at Gaby, whose hair was still a little messy after bed. She was warming her toes with her fingers. Illya took the blanket that was hanging on the armchair, moved closer to Gaby and covered her legs with it. He squeezed her toes with his hands.

“Thanks,” Gaby said quietly.

“Hanging pictures seems very permanent,” Illya said. “And this was supposed to be temporary,” he continued, “until I found my own place.”

”Yes,” Gaby said. ”I just thought that you were getting comfortable. You were acting like you were.”

“When I come here after just being in the HQ or after some affair, I feel like I am going home,” Illya said. ”That is how I think of this place. It feels like home. I have had plenty of apartments, but I haven’t had home since I was a child. This is the first one after that.”

Gaby brushed Illya’s cheek with her hand.

“And it is not just the apartment. It is you being here,” Illya told her.

Gaby climbed to sit on Illya’s lap. Her thighs slid against his hips and her palms sat on the curve on his neck. “I don’t want you to leave,” she said.

“I don’t want to leave,” Illya said.

Gaby sighed and pressed her forehead against Illya’s forehead. “So stay. Hang your pictures. Yes?”

The corners of Illya’s mouth twitched when Gaby mimicked his way of speaking. He managed to nod just before Gaby kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holiday´s to everybody. The last chapter will be on in 31st.


	26. Toast for the New Year

12 AM. (Magadan)

Gaby popped the champagne bottle open and poured the drink in two glasses. She handed the other one to Illya and the clinked them together.

“Happy New year,” Gaby said cheerfully.” C Новым годом.”

“Are you going to wish happy New Year for every time zone?” Illya asked and was smiling a bit.

“Yes,” Gaby said. “We are toasting for every time zone, so we should wish too.” She took of hold on Illya’s wrist and looked his watch. “Napoleon is coming in an hour. We need to change before that. Do you want to help me?”

Illya frowned. “Are you going to need an hour to change your clothes?”

“Yes, If you help,” Gaby said and grinned. She set her champagne glass in a drawer and pulled Illya gently with her toward the bedroom. “The hour is just a guideline. It doesn’t have to be that long, but we both know you like to thorough. And I like you to be. So yes, an hour.”

The corners of Illya’s mouth twitched. He set his glass next to Gaby’s before it would spill. He let Gaby pull him in to the bedroom. 

 

1 PM. (Srednekolymsk)

Napoleon put the champagne crate to the kitchen counter.

Illya glanced to the crate and then to Cowboy. “It´s three of us,” he said. “And you have twelve bottles. How many people you have invited?”

Napoleon shrugged his shoulders. ”A few. And to be honest, I have twenty-four bottles. The other crate is still in the hallway.”

“Are they all women?” Gaby asked, smiling when she came in.

“No,” Napoleon assured her.

Illya crossed his arms and lifted his brows.

“Maybe most of them are,” Napoleon confessed. “But not all. Is everything in order in here? Food? Drinks? Music?”

”Do you think we don’t know what to do with guests?” Gaby asked, her hands on her hips.

“You, no,” Napoleon said grinning. “But Peril… well, he is another story.”

Illya frowned. “I haven’t been raised in a barn,” he said. “I know what to do with guests. I just don’t always like to do that. There is a difference.”

 

2 PM. (Vladivostok)

Gaby mixed the egg salad and smiled. “All cooking should be like this,” she said. “Mixing. Chopping and mixing. If all cooking was like that, I would be really good cook.”

“And you can also stack,” Illya reminded her.

Gaby nodded. “And I can boil the perfect egg,” she continued.

“Anybody can boil an egg,” Napoleon claimed.

Gaby turned to look at him and looked displeased. “But not the perfect egg,” she said.

“What’s your recipe?” Napoleon asked. ”Do you boil it for seven or ten minutes?” he smirked.

“Eight and a half,” Gaby said proudly. “And I put it in cold water.”

Napoleon lifted his brows. “That’s still not much of a recipe.”

“It’s the recipe for a perfect egg,” Gaby insisted and turned back to the salad. “You are just jealous.”

“What else is there besides perfect eggs?” Napoleon asked.

”Weird fish jelly,” Gaby said.

“3ельц,” Illya corrected.

“I know what you referring to,” Napoleon said and looked his watch. “And I agree with Gaby: it´s weird fish jelly. Where are your glasses? It’s almost New Year in Vladivostok.”

 

3 PM. (Yakutsk)

Gaby put the cap on Illya’s head and smiled. “Perfect fit.”

Illya lift his other brow. He wasn’t quite sure were they making fun of him, or did Gaby and Cowboy really like their caps. Gaby’s checked chocolate brown cap fit with her hair. She looked pretty and like she was going to drive her car faster than usual. And Cowboy’s cap was somehow the same colour as his blue suit.

“How your suit is matching your hat?” Illya asked.

“We bought them when we were at his last fitting,” Gaby told.

“So treat it as it deserves,” Napoleon instructed. “It’s from Savile Row.”

“Can I take it off now?” Illya asked.

“No,” Gaby said. She smiled and sat on Illya’s lap. “You look cute.”

Illya huffed.

“That was exactly the word I was going to use,” Napoleon said sarcastically and stood up to pour some water.

Gaby smiled and kissed Illya. “Are you really mad?”

Illya frowned little and crossed his arms. He wanted to be. He felt like he should be. But for some reason he wasn’t. For some reason their stupid hats made him sort off happy. But Gaby was ready to fondle him back to not being mad, and Illya was going to let her. So he just shrugged his shoulders. Gaby made a quiet little laugh and kissed him again.

“You should really go to see Bernard,” Napoleon said when he sat back behind the table.

“Who is Bernard?” Illya asked.

“He is Napoleon’s tailor,” Gaby informed him. “I like him.”

“Of course you have a tailor,” Illya huffed but didn’t continue the sentence even if he had more to say about that. He set his arm around Gaby’s waist. He had had a few toasts and he was feeling calm, so he didn’t mind that much that Cowboy was there to actually see him touching her.

“He can make you a suit for your cap,” Napoleon said. “And your cap is specially selected to fit you. But that is what you need: A bespoke suit.”

“My suits are just fine,” Illya insisted.

“Yes. Fine,” Napoleon was ready to say, even if he didn’t quite agree. “But there’s always room of improvement.”

 

4 PM. (Irkutsk)

Napoleon walked to see the pictures on the wall. So it had happened. He grinned a bit.

He had seen some of the pictures there earlier. But now there were new ones. And one of the new ones he had seen before: the one with smiling Illya who was holding a frog. He had seen that one on a plane, somewhere between Moscow and Inverness, a little over three months ago. He glanced through the kitchen door. He wasn’t sure what Illya had just said, but he was looking soft and relaxed and Gaby was laughing. She was looking up at him and her hand was holding her cap so it didn’t fall. Napoleon turned his face back to the pictures. That didn’t seem very temporary anymore. Not when there were nails in the wall involved. He had suspected from the start that it wasn’t going to be anything but permanent. He felt like that was something they just say, to mostly themselves, to excuse the fact that they had moved in together pretty much three days after they crossed the line between friend and lover.

He felt like Gaby at least had known from the start that Illya was there to stay. So really the only one who probably had wondered how things were going to play out was Illya. But now he was on the walls so Napoleon assumed he knew that Gaby was keeping him. Like a big stray dog, Napoleon sometimes thought, but in a nice way. Someone to protect your home, warm your bed and be loyal. God knows what the two of them were thinking about him. Napoleon used one of the pictures as a mirror. He straightened his tie and his cap. 

Whatever it was, he was sure he didn’t deserve it.

 

5 PM. (Krasnoyarsk)

”You know, now that I have tasted this delicious fish jelly,” Gaby said politely.

“3ельц,” Illya corrected

“Thank you, just that,” Gaby said, relaxed, and didn’t seem to mind being corrected. “I can say that it is just as weird as I though. Not as bad, but definitely as weird.”

”I feel like there should be only fruits in jelly,” Napoleon said. “It’s not a savory dish.”

“So no fish jelly next year?” Illya asked.

” 3ельц,” Gaby corrected, with grin, and Illya glared her quickly. “No. No fish jelly.”

“I do like this bread,” Napoleon said.

“It’s nice,” Gaby nodded. “But that I already knew.”

“So you like the bread?” Illya asked. “The fish is already slimy so the jelly is very suitable to it, but the blood in bread doesn’t bother you.”

“There’s blood in this bread?” Napoleon asked. “Is that on purpose? Or was there an accident in the kitchen?”

”No accident,” Gaby assured. “Still there’s blood.”

“Blood,” Napoleon repeated.

“Yes,” Illya said. ”Is it any different from meat?”

“Yes,” Napoleon said.

“No, it’s not,” Gaby insisted. ”Here in Europe we have had to use all the parts of the animal and not waste anything. So it’s not that weird to bake your bread with blood. We can’t all be… snobs, like in America.”

“Snobs?” Napoleon said and frowned. ”Just because I think it´s weird that there’s blood in the bread?”

“Well, we are having dinner,” Gaby said. “So I tried to be civilized. Would you prefer pussy?” she asked and made Illya snort.

Napoleon grinned at Gaby across the table. “Is this how this is playing out? We are starting to insult to our countries. Because there may be some fault in my country, but it’s not like Germany or Russia are that good either.”

“This is what we should always talk about at dinner table,” Illya said very seriously, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. He turned to Gaby. “Now there is reason to go to the obvious, but let me ask you this: How hard was it to keep the zeppelins in air?”

Gaby frowned, but was holding her smile. “They were staying in air just fine.”

“Even Hindenburg?” Illya asked

“Hindenburg blew up in America,” Gaby pointed out. ”So that’s on them.”

Illya turns to Napoleon. “Can you explain?”

“The Hindenburg?” Napoleon laughed. ”No. No I really can’t. Can you explain Laika?”

“Yes, can you?” Gaby asked. “She was just a dog.”

“She was first living creature in space,” Illya said.

“She was left to die there,” Napoleon said.

“She was dying for her country,” Illya insisted. “And she did it proudly.”

“Did they ask her?” Gaby frowned. ”I don’t think so.”

Napoleon laughed at Illya’s expression. He apparently couldn’t say was Gaby being serious or not.

“And you,” Gaby said and pointed to Napoleon. “I have been watching ‘I Love Lucy.’ Why would America do that to everybody? It’s horrible.”

“You don’t like it?” Napoleon asked.

”She terrifies me,” Gaby said. “Forget about the communism and red army; she is what is red and scary.”

Napoleon laughed and Illya’s smile almost showed his teeth.

 

6 PM. (Omsk)

”Next thing on the list is…” Napoleon said and sipped his champagne, “cutting the tree.”

“It was nice,” Gaby said and looked to Illya. “Right?”

Illya nodded. ”Maybe we should just find out beforehand where all the firs actually grow.”

“Did you knew that the biggest predator in the UK is the badger?” Gaby asked to Napoleon.

Napoleon snorted. ”No, it´s not.”

Gaby nodded. “Yes.”

Napoleon crimped his face. ”No, that can’t be right. Badger? It’s so small.”

“Gaby wanted to move to Romania when she heard about that,” Illya told. “Because of wolves.”

“You hated Romania,” Napoleon reminded her.

“It’s past already,” Gaby assured. “I don’t want to move there anymore.”

Napoleon nodded. “Good. Because I am not going to visit you if you live in Romania.”

“Maybe we should rethink that,” Illya said quietly toward Gaby.

“I heard that,” Napoleon said, displeased.

“You were meant to,” Illya huffed.

“What’s next?” Gay asked and stopped them from continuing.

Napoleon glance the list. “Fruit cake.”

“We definitely need to make that again. Because that was delicious. I was doing an excellent job supervising everything,” Gaby said.

Napoleon grinned and looked the list again. “Morning warm-up when the radiators broke.”

Illya took the list from him and cleared his throat. “Have you written here everything we made in December?”

Gaby nodded while she sipped her champagne.

“Now was this warm-up happening on those mornings when you two were late?” Napoleon smirked.

Illya cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything. ”We will skip that,” he decided.

“I’m the judge,” Napoleon reminded him. “I choose what we skip and what we don’t skip. That’s how it should go.”

“Well, it doesn’t,” Illya informed him.

The doorbell rang and Napoleon went to open the door.

“Do you know how many people he has invited?” Illya asked Gaby.

“No,” Gaby confessed. ”But it can’t be that many,” she said happily. “So, morning warm-up? Do you want to keep that on the Christmas tradition list, or toss it?” She smiled a little smug smile knowing what Illya was going to say.

“We can keep it,” he said and smiled a little back. “If anything I want to see what you are going to do to the radiators next year.”

 

7 PM. (Sverdlovsk)

Illya walked through the living-room and dodged people. The room was full. Napoleon’s “few” was very different from his “few.” And maybe Illya should’ve known that. When Napoleon asked if he could bring a few people, he should have known that it could very well mean close to twenty people. The music was loud, everybody was talking and laughing. There were champagne glasses everywhere and spilled champagne under those. Napoleon was talking to some women in the corner. Gaby was changing the record and swaying gently along to the music. In other words: there was a party here.

Illya went to the kitchen and when the few people taking something to eat moved to the living-room, he was left alone. Illya took a glass from the cupboard and the vodka from the freezer and poured himself a drink. He put the vodka back to keep cold and sat down.

The music changed and shortly after Napoleon came to the kitchen. He took a champagne bottle from the fridge.

“Are you hiding?” Napoleon asked.

”Am I hiding while sitting in the middle of a room with an open door?” Illya asked.

Napoleon nodded.

”Yes,” Illya said.

”If it’s because of all of these people – “

“It is.”

“Well, I didn’t actually invite all of them,” Napoleon confessed and sat down. “I invited some of them and then said that they should bring friends if they like.”

“Seems like everybody liked,” Illya said and finished his vodka.

“Where did you get that?” Napoleon asked. “I thought that vodka ran out.”

“Freezer,” Illya said.

Napoleon took a glass for himself and opened the freezer. He poured himself a drink in front of the open door and enjoyed the cold glow on his face. Illya lifted his glass and he poured one for him too.

“I’ll bet you five pounds,” Napoleon started and closed the freezer, “that Gaby won’t be up when the year changes in here.”

Illya leaned to see her through the door. She was still standing on her heels, but there were hours to go. But then again, she sometimes did extraordinary things while drunk. She had tackled him over the couch to the floor. And he wouldn’t think a girl her size would have been able to do that. “You are on,” Illya decided. He believed in her. And if she collapsed before midnight, she would rise up still to drink her last glass of champagne when the year officially changed. She was stubborn like that.

 

8 PM. (Samara)

Gaby walked to Illya. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and Illya pulled her to sit on his lap. Gaby leaned against him.

“Do you know any of these people?” Illya asked.

Gaby shook her head. ”No,” she muttered. “I don’t feel so good.”

“How much champagne have you drunk?” Illya asked.

Gaby turned her face towards Illya and shrugged her shoulders in a manner that said pretty much, but they had been celebrating New Year’s for several hours so it wasn’t technically her fault any more, she was a mere victim of the circumstances.

Illya kissed Gaby’s forehead. “You should drink some water. I have made a bet that you are up at midnight.” He pushed Gaby up and poured her a glass of water.

Gaby leaned against the counted when she drank. It felt safer and less mobile. “You made a bet about my ability to stay up?” she asked and frowned a little.

“I am betting for you,” Illya pointed out. “I would suggest little nap for you, but you are not going to do that, are you?”

Gaby shook her head when she finished her water. “I can’t go to sleep. The year changes in Moscow next and then we are going to make wishes.”

Illya took some bread from the table and spread mustard on it. Gaby sat down to remove her heels. Illya put some salmon on the bread and handed it to Gaby.

“Thank you,” Gaby muttered as she took the sandwich. “Who would’ve thought that toasting for twelve hours would be this rough?”

Illya smiled. “Imagine that.”

 

9 PM. (Moscow)

”So, we write our wishes on a piece of paper,” Napoleon said and looked at his little paper. “And then we burn it and drink the ashes with champagne when the clock chimes twelfth time at the Kremlin?”

Gaby nodded. She sat down behind the kitchen table between Illya and Napoleon. The party was still going on in the living-room. Illya lit the candle.

“And you can only start writing one minute before the year changes,” Gaby said. She felt quite woozy, but she was going to make her wishes and was keeping herself together with pure determination. She brushed the hair lock from her cheek behind her ear and straightened her cap. She couldn’t see that clear, but she could still write.

“The last minute starts…” Illya said as he watched his father’s watch, ”now.”

Napoleon wondered what he would wish. He smiled when he remembered Modigliani’s painting of Jeanne Hébuterne. He wrote that he would wish to have her home some time soon. She would look great on his bedroom wall, like he had planned. He also wished that the opportunities to offer drinks to women would continue.

Illya pondered what he wished for a while. He glanced at his team and his gaze stayed on Gaby. There was that strand of hair hanging on her cheek. He wrote down that he wanted everything to stay the same. He had already so much more that he had hoped to ever have. Illya would be perfectly fine if things stayed as they were.

Gaby wished something with a six cylinder engine and leather seats. Something that would go faster than her Spider. She wished that she stayed healthy and safe, and Illya, Napoleon and Waverly too. She wished she would stay happy and satisfied, and smiled as she wrote that. She also wished that the snow would stay on the ground for a while.

“Twenty seconds,” Illya said.

Gaby lit her little note and let it burn over her champagne. They were all trying to not to burn their fingers as they burnt the papers.

“Five seconds,” Illya said.

Gaby had to let the little unburned piece drop and it hissed when it hit the champagne.

“Happy New Year,” Napoleon wished and they clinked their glasses and drank their champagne.

Gaby felt the ash sticking her mouth. She gargled the champagne to make it move.

“I have forgotten how stupid this was,” Illya said and moved his tongue in his cheek to get the ash clear.

“Is this healthy?” Napoleon asked.

“Comparing to what?” Illya asked. ”To biscuits or bullets?”

Napoleon grinned and glanced at Gaby, who was resting her forehead on her hand. “Are you okay?”

Gaby nodded with great difficulty. “Party,” she mumbled.

“Maybe you should go to bed,” Napoleon suggested.

“I don’t want to miss the New Year here,” she said and looked sad.

“We´ll set an alarm for you,” Illya promised. He leaned closer to her and Gaby slid her left hand over his shoulder and her head just drooped against his neck. Illya picked Gaby up very effortlessly and carried her to the bedroom.

 

Midnight (London)

Gaby walked little uncertainly from the bedroom door to the couch and sat down. “Where is everybody?” she asked.

“They left to go to another party,” Napoleon said. ”I’m going with them as soon as the year has changed.”

Gaby leaned on Illya’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “Is it changing soon?”

“Yes,” Illya said gently and smiled at her. He liked her stubborn determination to be up when the year changed, even though she had drunk in her weight in champagne. She was holding her cap in her hand and pulled it on her head slowly.

“I’m ready,” Gaby said.

“For what?” Napoleon asked.

”To party,” Gaby said and straightened her back. ”The year is changing, I need champagne.”

“You really don’t,” Illya said, but looked at her still very softly.

Gaby made a little sad face. “Yes, I do,” she insisted. “New Year. Champagne. Party. Toast.”

”You are just saying separate words,” Napoleon told her, in case she didn’t know.

Illya stood up and got her a glass. She poured some for her and filled his own and Cowboy’s glasses.

Napoleon glanced at his watch. “Three minutes.”

Gaby leaned again on Illya’s shoulder and closed her eyes. She was tired and dizzy, and not completely sure she was actually awake. Maybe she never did get up from the bed. Maybe she was still sleeping and just imagining all of this. Imaginary champagne glass in her hand, leaning against imaginary Illya, sitting on an imaginary couch with imaginary cap on her head.

Napoleon felt a little tired. Or more like worn out. He wasn’t quite sure why. He had drunk champagne for some ten hours, but that was just reasonable. Anybody could do that. Well, anybody who weighed more than Gaby. The point was, he wasn’t quite in the party mood any more. He hated even to think about it, but just sitting down was nice. And the really quiet music too.

Illya looked his watch. ”One minute,” he said.

Gaby opened her eyes and straightened herself. “I’m ready,” she muttered again.

Illya, whose hand was wrapped around her waist, stroked her side softly. Napoleon straightened himself too. Illya counted down from five seconds.

”C Новым годом. Glückliches neues Jahr. Happy new year,” Gaby wished for the eleventh time that evening. And this was definitely the most downbeat one. She leaned to give a kiss to Illya’s cheek and stood up to kiss Napoleon’s cheek too. Then she sat back down, finished her champagne and curled up on the couch. She rested her head in Illya’s lap and just relaxed right away. Her hand dropped to hang from the couch and swung there little while.

“You own me five pounds,” Illya said.

Napoleon huffed slightly. “I should head on to the next party,” he said. ”I bet it’s just getting started.”

“Or we can just get the vodka from the freezer and you can sleep on the couch,” Illya suggested and didn’t really bother to pretend that he hadn’t just voluntarily asked Cowboy to stay.

Napoleon glanced at Illya, who threw a blanket on Gaby’s bare legs, and Gaby, who slept in her little dress and was still wearing her cap, like they all were. He really didn’t feel like going to the party. He could sit here and drink some really cold vodka. And he could talk to Illya or not talk to Illya and just sit in quiet. He was sure that both options would work for him. He didn’t want to leave to be with strangers. At least for now he would much rather sit with people he actually, well, liked.

“Let’s do that,” Napoleon decided.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta thanks to MollokoPlus


End file.
